Perchance to Dream
by LadySeradeRETURNS
Summary: Sequel to Reason for Life. Sirius and Hermione are settling back into a different routine, adjusting to the changes between them. He wants what is best for her and realizes that its not him. She's left to pick up the piece, but is never alone.
1. A Slow Beginning

_A note from Lady Serade:_ _It took a little bit of time to reformat a sequel for REASON FOR LIFE. I am not usually too quick to write as sequel, for I like to try out different avenues and twists. So, because I put a poll on my LiveJournal, most wanted me to continue for part II for this story. Granted, I still have another one in mind behind this one, but for now, we'll see how long this goes. I cannot promise another 33 chapters, but it might still get up there. I enjoy writing it, as long as there are still fans for the Hermione/Sirius ship. See you at Infinitus (for those that are attending!). Enjoy! -LS_

**Perchance to Dream _(sequel to REASON FOR LIFE)_**

Ch. 1 - A Slow Beginning

The beginning of the new week was slightly overcast. The air was humid. The clouds overhead were thick with moisture waiting for any moment to tear open and release its vengeance on muggles that had forgotten to bring umbrellas along with them on their morning commute.

Hidden beyond abandoned buildings, the Ministry of Magic was unlocking its doors for their own Monday morning commuters. Weary-eyed wizards in formal robes and witches holding handbags walked briskly through the corridors, Apparating from various fireplaces along the path that brought them there from their homes. Windows along the underground city were lighting sporadically as occupants entered their offices around the four story long winking banner of the Minster of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt.

The last fireplace on the end lit up with green flames and a pretty brunette wearing a tan A-line skirt and white buttoned down shirt walked out unscathed. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun, make-up was lightly applied and her shoes clicked firmly on the tile floor towards the set of elevators, falling in with the rest of the morning commuters. She went to stand in the back, her head down and clutching her messenger bag casually.

The elevator screeched and jolted, indicating that it was on the move between requested floors. Enchanted department memos were already flying in to hover overhead as the doors opened to let workers of the Ministry off. The requested floor for the Department of Mysteries was the last one the elevator went too, leaving Hermione the only passenger in the cab to step off and duck under some low flying memos. The hallway before her seemed long, longer than usual, as she found herself taking a little more time than usual to get to the double doors waiting for her at the end. The sound of her clicking shoes echoed off the metal walls around her, practically vibrating in her head as a reminder that she was at work.

She pushed through the double doors, bracing herself for whatever came her way, but today of all days, nothing could change her mood. She was elated, on cloud nine and in a private new world that hardly anyone knew about. Well, maybe a select few knew the history.

Hermione passed a set of windows that looked into a laboratory with both scientific instruments and odd magical machines that helped them decipher some answers they were looking for. Vials of memories, samples, specimens, ingredients, and odd oozing liquid decorated the shelves around the sterile room. She went into the second set of doors that emptied into a break room with shelves and closets for personal things, along with a partial kitchen, complete with a muggle coffee maker they had uncovered a year earlier.

"Well look who's back from her emergency vacation," said a high pitched female voice. Hermione smiled slowly and turned around to see Isa and Sean, a blonde witch in her late thirties and a balding wizard in his late twenties, sitting at a small circular table and clutching to cups of tea in their palms. Their faces were smirked, heads tilted and curious as all hell to where she had gone. "Care to enlighten those that you left behind?" Isa's voice was light humored and intrigued by the girl that never took a break.

"I'm sorry, guys," Hermione started as she hung up her bag on a waiting hook and then reached for her white lab coat that hung beside it. She followed their lead and walked over to make a cup of tea. She didn't plan on telling them much. "I just really needed a break."

"So, where did you go?" said the effeminate Sean. He was ready for gossip, if he could get any.

"Hawaii," she sighed. "Wanted to see some sunshine, lie on the beach, just relax, you know?"

"Just you?" Isa asked, she believe there was more to it. "Or, did you go with that ginger you used to date?"

"His name is Ron, and no he didn't come with me."

"So, are you going to tell us anything, or is it going to remain a mystery? Sorry Hermione, it was just odd of you to just run off with hardly any notice. We were fine without you, though we're glad you're back, Isa and I just had a great time making stories up where you went."

"I didn't go alone," Hermione whispered, dipping her tea bag gently into her cup. Her lips curved into a smile, thinking about her time on the beach with a particularly handsome older wizard wearing jeans and no shirt, walking along the shoreline of the island.

"Hermione, we have unanswered questions and there are metal tools with probes that we are not afraid to use if you don't start talking," Isa said with her strong German accent. The two conspired against her and watched her carefully like two kids about to be told the legend of Father Christmas.

She smiled sweetly, hiding her rose colored cheeks from prying eyes and nodded slowly. Some things she would keep to herself and some things she wanted to scream from the rooftops, but as she recalled her happy homecoming two weeks before her "two week emergency vacation", there were still some things that made the butterflies in her stomach erupt all over again, like they did when she was in nineteen eighty-one.

She turned to her audience of two and shook her head. "It's all very simple," she paused, "I met somebody."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Number twelve Grimmauld Place was once a beacon of pride, arrogance and assumed royalty. The windows had since been replaced from the countless cracks, trees hanging around the structure had been cut back, the inside interiors had been completely refreshed and now standing in the foyer where an old grandfather clock struck, were two people that already had a lifetime together and now stood before a future unknown.

Deep in Sirius's heart, emotions he hadn't felt in nearly fifteen years (well, twenty if you add the blank years he was in the Veil) resurfaced for the young witch he held in his hands. As he pulled away to press their foreheads together to just listen to the peaceful stillness around them, he thought back fondly of first meeting her when he was twenty-one. He was a young man then, an arrogant aristocrat that had a knack for breaking all the rules set by his family blood and dying to fight for the greater good and live like each day was his last. He made a promise in the first war with the Order of the Phoenix alongside his best friend James Potter and a special vow to his wife Lily to protect their son Harry in the event of an untimely result.

Sadly, things could not be changed when Hermione went back to nineteen eighty-one with the Time Turner. The future had already been determined in the world that she lived in; Sirius had been destined to go to Azkaban without a trial for the murders of James and Lily Potter and Peter Pettigrew. She was not allowed to change the timeline, no matter what the outcome. Instead, she risked a great deal by "accidentally" getting involved with Sirius, confessing her love and receiving it in return. Rules that accompany the Time Turner were gambled, thus resulting in many long years of a believed death, prolonged romance and the fear of rejection once she returned to the Sirius she had grown up with.

Hermione's fingers slowly ran along the lapel of the chocolate colored jacket he wore. The blue shirt he wore beneath it was buttoned to the top, except for the first one where she was able to see a little of his Azkaban barcode tattoo on his neck. He smelled better than she remembered with rich cologne. The warmth of his hands around her neck gave her peace and satisfaction that he was letting her in again, even after all these years without her in this capacity.

"I can tell you everything, now," she said in a meek voice. Her heart was pounding strong.

He never wanted to close his eyes, fearful that his dream would be gone. He felt that if he looked away, even just for a second, she would disappear like mist at his fingertips. Still, he mustered the inner strength to push on to where they needed to be to start off fresh.

He kissed her forehead and said, "Let's go have a cup of tea...and talk." His voice was calm, at ease and with perfect volume, it was like he was finally getting exactly what he wanted.

She nodded and fell against his chest, following and letting him lead her down the hallway to the kitchen. She slid her hand into his like she always did and he took it slowly, interlacing their fingers together like he was discovering an old habit again.

"This is going to take some getting used to, again," he said as he looked down at their hands together.

Hermione smiled and said, "Take all the time you need."

He sat her down at the head of the table and fixed her a cup of tea while glancing over his shoulder every few seconds to make sure she was still there. His own cup was still on the table where he left it so abruptly the second he heard her call his name, but as he joined her at the table and lifted the forgotten cup to his lips, it was still warm.

Being with Hermione again, with this renewed feeling, was almost too surreal to comprehend. His eyes watched nearly every move she made, worried that it was another dream from so many years ago. Though he was only sitting next to her at the corner of the table, he didn't think he was close enough. He laid his free hand on the table, open for her to set hers in his and as their skin touched, it was like they were back in another time, again. She was just as beautiful, just as hopeful and her eyes showed nothing of doubt for him. The way she sat, the way she watched, the way she licked her lips, were all confirmation that she was really there and wanting to be there with him.

"We're really going to do this?" he asked, finally speaking for the first time since they were in the kitchen.

"I'm game," she said with a slight smirk. "I can't just turn any of this off, Sirius. I can't come back here and not be in love with you."

"And I don't really think that after holding onto you for so long, that I could either."

It warmed her heart to a new degree and she bit her lip as she looked away; her cheeks blushed pink.

His eyes couldn't leave her, even just for a second to glance out the window to a perched bird. He was drawn to her with an invisible magic that was too overpowering. "But, just for my sake, let me start over," he said, squeezing her hand in his. "I've had a lot of time to prepare for whatever end result, so allow me to bask in whatever joy can come out of this-"

"Whatever joy? Sirius, I'm with you. I'm ready to take any road, but I'm not leaving you. We've been through so much in such a little time, you've waited for me all these years, and we deserve each other." She put down her tea and used both hands to hold his. She leaned over the table, her hair falling before her shoulders in a romantic fashion.

"I am-" his voice choked for a moment and he closed his eyes to compose himself before continuing. "I am very glad you're saying all of this, because it's what I've wanted to hear, since I saw you in the shack."

The sound of Hermione's chair scraped across the floor and she was up and sitting on Sirius's lap within seconds. She wanted to be close to him, she wanted him to know that she was staying with him and taking on whatever life threw at them. She threw out all manners and straddled his lap, her arms resting around his shoulders so that she could look down into his beautiful grey eyes.

"Then, let's waste no more time."

"And do what?" he teased, an eyebrow quirked. For a moment, he was a shadow of the old Sirius, the younger Sirius sneaking out. The side of his mouth twitched for a second over the friction of her on his lap.

Hermione paused and tilted her head to the side like a puppy hearing a sound for the first time. She slowly grinned back with an air of flirt in her voice, "You're going to play games, already? Please tell me that hasn't been your grand scheme for when I got back. Tell me you had other things planned."

"I have other things planned," he humored. "I've also decided that in order to protect you, I'm withstanding from any intimate activity with you for at least two weeks"

"Two weeks? How is that protecting me?" she asked with a perked eyebrow.

"I need to make sure this is what you want. I don't think-"

"This is what I want!"

"I don't think I could live with myself knowing that after all this wait, you decide its best to be friends and I...well...I'd already tasted the forbidden fruit, to put it plainly."

"Oh, Sirius," she whispered. His name was heaven on her lips to him.

"I'd rather not know, than have to remember. I have done so well trying to remember, that if after all this time it doesn't end the way I have hoped, I'd rather not know what I was missing. Does that make any sense?" His words were clear, but they still sounded too constructed. His wants and needs and not-knowing were getting in the way of trying to rebuild what had been gone for so long.

Hermione nodded slowly, understanding the underlining meaning to his case, "It makes sense." She kissed him briefly, holding his lips to hers longer. "But, I'm not going to make the next two weeks easy on you."

He pushed their foreheads together, his hands running up and down her ribs, allowing his fingers to catch on her shirt, "Believe me, you're already making the issue hard enough as it is."

Her grin matched his creeping one and they shared their private moment together, reveling in each other as they sat in the ancient kitchen surrounded by memories.

"You met somebody?" Isa and Sean said in unison, their eyes wide with shock.

Hermione grinned, but her eyes did not give her away as she stared into the steaming contents of her cup. She remained where she was, leaning against the counter where the modern coffee pot and toaster were plugged in. She dared not step any closer to the open claws of her gossiping co-workers that were chomping at the bit for juicy news to spread.

"Hermione Granger, you better start talking, or else I'm going to make some stuff up. Or better yet, I'll call your friend Harry Potter, there. I'm sure he's got some gossip to share." Sean tried to leverage something, anything, hoping for a bone, but he came up dry as soon as Isa spoke.

"Empty threats, Sean," Isa droned. "You know Potter would never spill anything on his precious, Hermione. Those two are like glue. He'd never dish on her."

Hermione smiled broadly again, knowing that what she kept was a real jewel, "Well, he might on this one."

"That's it, what's his Floo address?"

The clock ticked its steady pace in the foyer by the front door. Portraits on the wall started to settle in for their early night, but before they could, they traveled between frames, peering into various rooms about Grimmauld Place, looking for the topics of conversation.

In the sitting room decorated in warm furnishings of an antiqued chandelier, a proud mantle depicting pictures of happy memories of Harry's maturity and good friends, a well stocked bar and under the wide picture window decorated in heavy curtains positioned a large sofa with velvet cushions where Sirius and Hermione sat.

Her body leaned on its side, her legs were tucked under and her head rested against the back of the couch. She gazed heavenly at him, watching his lips as he spoke. Her hand was covered with his as it rested between them where the sofa cushions split.

"Are you really here with me?" he asked. His feet were propped on the ottoman in front of him as he shared her relaxed ease; his head rested against the back of the couch while looking at her. "It wasn't but this morning that we were platonic friends and now..." She only smiled. "I've loved you for so long; I cannot begin to tell you the torture I went through when you were thirteen." His voice was quiet, almost desperate, like his soul was confessing its deepest, darkest, angriest secrets to her and with nothing but adoring sympathy, she watched him carefully. "I believed you first to be dead, then I briefly imagined you being your own daughter, but it was Remus who helped me through it all." He squeezed his eyes shut, like he was trying to see the pictures he'd set before him. "Then, it all made sense," he opened his eyes for her. With his free hand, he reached out to run his fingers down the side of her face, cherishing his living dream. "I knew that one day I'd have to face the reality that you were not going to come back to me."

"And yet, here I sit."

Their conversation would go in and out, allowing silence to bring them closer together. Never once did Sirius look away, fearful that his mind was playing tricks on him and he could no longer decipher what was dream and what was reality. Especially when it was something he dwelled on for so long.

Finally, her eyes drifted closed. Her steady breath indicated that she had fallen asleep while sitting there with him on the couch, listening to stories and just talking together for the first time in a long time for him. For at least another half hour, he watched her sleep there next to him. His hand never left hers and his fingers continued to lightly caress the back of her hand. It appeared that all her traveling had finally caught up to her and it was time for her body and mind to rest after a long day's journey through time.

Sirius was careful not to disturb her as he slowly got up off the couch. Having already removed his jacket, he thought about laying it over her as a blanket, but decided she deserved a proper night's sleep. He lifted her very carefully, holding her tightly to him with his arms under her knees and behind her back. He took her up the stairs and down the hallway to her own bedroom. As gently as placing flower petals on thorns, he placed her into the comfortable confines of her bed. He pulled the covers up to her shoulders and watched as she settled in on her own, turning halfway into the pillow her head met.

Gazing for a lasting picture, he leaned over to place a kiss on her forehead, when she stirred enough to realize that he was leaving. She murmured something inaudible and reached out to the empty space next to her.

"Don't leave. Stay," she whispered, barely opening her eyes. Her hand patted to the pillow next to her.

A strong surge began to settle in his stomach, like an empty hole was being filled. He had no reservations to lying next to her, but this was almost more than he could handle on the first day. Still, he had no reason to run for the young twenty-something deep within was jumping about anxiously, despite his mental forewarnings.

He removed his shoes, loosened the cuffs and collar of his shirt and climbed on the bed next to her, remaining above the covers. Her routine took over and she snuggled closer, pining for him to take her in. Like another old habit beginning to surface, he held her close, draping an arm over her waist and closed his eyes to dream away next to her.

Outside the window to Hermione's bedroom, three perched birds rustled their feathers and took flight, joining their friends in formation to travel to the warmer south. Their jostling on the branch scraped across the glass of the window, causing its occupants to stir awake just as their eyelids met the overcast sunlight trying its hardest to seep through.

Hermione's eyes fluttered as she realized that the day had begun and she wasn't already up. She thought briefly of work, but thought of sending an owl when she went down for morning tea. The pressing issue at hand, who was still pretending to sleep, was more important and he needed her attention at home.

She smiled as his eyelids tried to remain closed for just a second longer. His face was handsome with a few age lines telling his stories of heartbreak and solitude. She longed to make him happy, to help him forget a past that he had to endure wrongly.

"Sirius...time to wake up," she whispered gently; her finger tips traced the contours of his face.

He didn't open his eyes, but he grumbled, "No, go back to sleep...too early."

Her gentle fingers slid to the side of his face where she rested her palm against his cheek and leaned in to kiss him awake. His response was good and he kissed her back submitting to her will. She slipped her tongue between his lips, encouraging him to push against her harder when his hands slid tightly around her. Her arms slinked around his shoulders and with little effort rolled onto her back as he pressed on top of her. Carefully shifting his weight, he eased himself onto her as his hands felt every curve of her body. He teased himself with pressing against her thigh so that she might understand what she did to him, but he refrained.

He kissed her lips, her cheek and then buried himself into her neck where his name was whispered into his ear with a volume of quiet passion. Quickly discovering that it was getting harder and harder to stop his train of desire he tempted himself with, he regrettably pulled away to see her practically trembling in his arms. However, it was a good tremble. She looked up to him hopeful, desperately wanting him to continue on the path they were on, but it was the look of desperation on his face that she knew she could not tempt. The second he stopped abruptly, it was like a small spark in his mind shocking him to remember what he had promised the day before.

Their breath was ragged and desperate together, like they'd sprinted in a marathon and had been given and early finish line. Passion welled up between them; no doubt what they were capable of.

"I wish you could feel the butterflies in my stomach, right now," Hermione whispered, breaking their silence. She reached for his hand and placed it against her chest, "Can you feel how fast my heart is beating?"

Never breaking her stare, he turned her hand onto his own chest and said, "Can you feel my heart beating? It beats _because _of you."

Her face cringed with his sincerity, wishing she could take away their time apart. It was almost too unfair to believe she hadn't missed a blink, but he had missed so many more years.

They found their way downstairs after showers and feeling refreshed to start their day together after a morning tea. They entered the kitchen laughing, holding hands and being greeted by the other occupant of the house.

"Good morning," Remus said as he turned to the much changed scene. He had his reservations at first, but saw the smile on her face and the intimacy of their hands and he knew that things had gone swimmingly.

"Remus!" Hermione said with a thrill. She hurried over to him and threw her arms around his neck, holding him close and welcoming his warm embrace. While pulling away she exclaimed, "You knew! You always knew!"

He chuckled in their embrace, "I knew, but I shouldn't have said anything to you back then. I broke the rules with you, so I guess we're even."

"Whatever you say," she smiled. "Thank you, by the way."

"For what?"

"Just, thank you and I'm sorry."

"Sorry, for what?" Remus asked, just releasing Hermione to let her fix some tea.

"Hermione, just stop. She's talking about James and Lily," Sirius solemnly said to him.

"Oh, well that," Remus said with a sadder tone, thinking back on the issue, "we've learned to deal with it. There was nothing-" he caught himself from breaking. "There was nothing you were allowed to do at the time."

"That's what I told her." Sirius took a seat at the wooden table, waiting for his tea. He took note that it was being prepared for him when he noticed Hermione take down an extra cup.

"Right," said Remus, shaking his head and not trying to dwell on it too much. "It seems that you two are okay? I had my doubts, I'll be honest, because I know how Sirius can get." There was a tinge of highness in his voice taking a quick jab to his friend, but his thoughts fell on Hermione again. He walked over to her and dipped his head, "Are you alright?"

Hermione nodded to her friend and said, "I am and he's getting there. We're going to be great."

"You're going to have to speak up, otherwise I can't eavesdrop," Sirius said, leaning back in his chair.

"Good to hear," he nodded and waved to the couple, "I just popped in for a moment to make sure the house was still standing. I'm off to break the news to Tonks; she was chomping at the bit wanting to know why I was so anxious last night. She blamed it on the cycles, but I told her it wasn't about me."

"Wait a minute, she was there, Remus. Doesn't she know? Doesn't she remember?" Hermione asked, spinning around and still holding a spoon in her hand.

"Well, she was there, yes, but she doesn't remember. I sort of took the liberty of using a memory charm on her when she was a little girl, in the event she saw you somewhere down the line." Remus shrugged his guilt and gave a friendly smile to both his friends and he was out the kitchen door and out of the house.

Hermione gazed off in the distance as the insistent questions flew at her. Still, she did not budge, nor did she sit down. Her co-workers were pining for information, a treat, a morsel, just something to let them spread it like wildfire and oh, it was a juicy.

"Hermione, I've worked with you for two years and this is groundbreaking news for you. So, what's he like?" Isa asked Hermione, folding her legs and letting her lab coat open between her knees. She rested back, preparing for a good story.

"Well, the normal sort. Black shoulder length hair, about five--nine, tattoos, your age Isa-"

"He's older than you? Hermione, this is really out of your mold, dear," Sean said with a flick of his wrist. "What does he do?"

"He's sort of between jobs, now," Hermione mused, more for herself than for them.

"He's unemployed?" Isa unfolded her legs and the heel of her shoes clicked hard on the floor. "Oh, girl, dump him. Forget it. Mystery getaway or not, he's a freeloader."

"No," Hermione said quietly, "he's not. He's been around, been alone for far too long."

"It sounds to me like you're already in love with this guy," Sean said, as if worried and about to alert the authorities.

Hermione nodded, "Oh, absolutely. Have been for quite awhile. Longer than I thought."

"Hermione, take it from someone who knows: get out now. Unless he's rich and famous, there's no reason to be with him."

She shrugged and walked to the door leading out to the hallway, she turned to face her co-workers and said, "Who's to say he's not rich and famous? Or shall I say, infamous?"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o00o0o0o0o0o

The sun was slowly sinking down into the horizon after a long day spent meandering around central London. One by one, streetlamps were coming on automatically to illuminate the roadways and sidewalks. Critters of all kinds began to creep their way from the darkness that harbored them during the day.

Walking along Regent Street together, Sirius carried a couple of shopping bags of things they'd picked up on their outing. Hermione held his hand tightly, interlacing their fingers over and over again, squeezing every few seconds to remind them that they really were there together. She hung on his arm like an ornament, the side of her cheek resting against his shoulder and her free hand wrapping around his upper arm feeling the expensive fabric of his corduroy jacket. She could hear the jingle of his pocket watch as they walked in tandem.

"I truly feel like we've not skipped a beat," she said, her cheek still resting against his shoulder. "Well, at least for me."

He nodded and turned to lay a kiss upon her head, "We've been apart for far too long."

"Then let me do whatever I can to make it up to you," she whispered, her eyes closing as they walked, taking in the rhythm they shared as their shoes clicked together on the pavement.

"You don't have to do anything, my love. Let me do what I can to help you adjust to the different me."

"You're not much different," she said lifting her head up to glance at him. "More like, improved. You're older, but I kind of like the idea of you growing out of your childish antics. I think I much prefer this man," she smiled for him, flirting subtly. "I know some things have changed, but there's not anything I couldn't live without."

"Oh, I'm sure you'll find some things, eventually," he mused, stopping her before they walked the crosswalk. Muggles around them went about their business, listening to their iPods and making general chit chat with their company.

Her mind started turning like a hamster wheel and before they walked across the road, she turned to take his hand into hers. She faced him seriously and momentarily scanned the faces of those that passed them. "Let's get something very clear. I've come back from a life changing experience. Some of the things I did were wrong-"

"-some of the things?" he interrupted with a lopsided grin.

"Virtually, everything having to do with you went to absolute shit, but that's neither here nor there," her eyes pleaded with him to hear how serious she was about to be. "I'm not proud of it, but the night before I left, the night before you went to Azkaban...I almost erased it all." She swallowed before continuing, "I had my wand to your temple, ready to change your memories to have you never have met me."

Sirius swallowed, his eyes dark and concerned, his brow furrowed, "Hermione."

"All the time I was with you, at your house, kissing you, laughing with you, the Sunday nights, those were all wrong. I never should have gone back and I never should have gotten involved in your life the way I did. I carry so much guilt from the night I left, the night I saw you ride off, that I wish I had erased your memories."

"Then, why didn't you?" he whispered, shaking his head slowly to understand. He could see the fragile state she was putting herself into.

"Because, I was selfish. I was selfish to believe that you would still be here, to believe that you would want me, after you found out my secret. I weighed it out over and over to see if what you needed was happiness, even for a little while. I knew you were going to go to Azkaban and it just killed me inside to know that you were going to set off and think of me and I didn't even belong in your time. I did nothing-"

Sirius hushed her as she started a slow silent cry. She turned away, unable to look at him as she composed herself. She had confessed more in one day, than she had planned to over the course of several months. His voice was soothing to her ears and he released his hand from her tight hold to lay it on her cheek to wipe her tears away.

With a few things off her chest, she felt somewhat lighter. The emotions were still bundling tight within her, but the wound was still fresh from leaving him to ride off to waiting authorities. The vision of him sitting on his motorcycle, glancing back to tell her he loved her replayed over and over in her memory, for it was only a few nights early. A lifetime had passed and there he stood before her: rescued and breathing. She reached out to touch his chest, to feel his heart beating strong.

"You saved me three different times in three different ways, Hermione. You're the reason I stand here, now." She shook her head, but let him raise her chin to see him. "I'm so very glad that you didn't erase my memories of you, otherwise what would I have to live for?"

"You've got Harry," she whispered back. Several muggles walked passed them as they remained on the sidewalk together.

"I've got Harry and I would die for Harry," he said quiet and convincing. "Now, I have you and if I didn't know about you, I'd just be that perverted uncle-like friend that would watch you from afar, anytime you came around him. Believe me, it's much better this way." She smiled as tears started to slowly cascade down her cheek, reflecting the half moon in the moisture. "You sacrificed a lot for me, Hermione. Over the years, I've learned to realize that."


	2. Revisiting Memories

_A note from Serade Black: Please believe me when I say how absolutely thrilled I am that so many responded to the sequel of Reason For Life. I do this for fun and for my warped imagination, I have no further words than to thank you for sticking around with my stories. Just a reminder: when the chapters get racier, I'll make a note regarding this that they can read the unedited chapters at my LJ. I have been on for a very long time (since my fandom in Labyrinth) and have been "banned" once for naughty fics. That is why I choose NOT to post them here...even if has evolved. Nevertheless, I will make a post regarding this when the time comes. For now, enjoy. For those that somewhat new to Sirius/Hermione: WELCOME! They're a brilliant couple to play with and even moreso when it's a sequel! Thank you for the encourgements...they do keep me going (even the quickie comments that you've been up for 12 hours reading...I'm chuffed!) Enjoy ~ SB_

Chapter 2

"Revisiting Memories"

The same street Hermione remembered leaving in her fifth year for the train station with a big black dog at her side came into view. But now, as the branches hung lower, fall beginning to send their foliage to the sidewalk, and the big black dog was transformed to her side, everything appeared different. New memories were unfolding, secrets were being shared and she never felt more complete or centered on her life than she did while walking next to Sirius hand in hand. It was almost like she knew, even before she went back with the Time Turner, she was meant to follow this destiny with him. Maybe she just always had a thing for dazzling older wizards.

Their footsteps fell together in step on the brick sidewalk. Hermione would bump his shoulder every now and then when her superstitious side would skip a crack, but it was warmly welcomed with a slight turn of his head and a guaranteed smile.

Being alongside of him, basking in his essence, remembering what he was like when she would sit around the long table at Grimmauld Place, listening to his stories of how things were and how things were going to play out. She remembered him taking his seat at the head of the table, not by right, but because everyone else in the house respected him enough to allow him to take that seat, no matter how much he hated it. He would sit at the end, listening to Remus and Molly talk about how hushed the Order was, but still felt it right to clue in the "kids". It was obvious now that Sirius never saw Harry as a kid, as much as he wanted to take full responsibility for him, and he never saw Hermione in that same light, because he knew her. He knew her both as a girl coming of age and as a woman with a balanced mind. He never worried about her, he knew how she'd turn out.

"Why did you pull me from the Veil?" he asked, holding her hand tighter as they walked. Their steps were slowing now that they were getting closer to number twelve.

"Because of my diary," she said glancing over. She admired the way his wavy hair fell over the collar of his jacket, like a romantic dark knight. His expensive threads said a lot about his life transitioning from the young man that she adored into the man that she had fallen in love with.

"You found it," he confirmed, an edge of closure hinted in his voice.

"When I read your last line, something in me clicked, like you were speaking to me from beyond and I just knew."

They stopped before the iron gates of number twelve and he turned to face her, his hand reaching up to gently caress her soft cheek like he was seeing her for the first time. It made his insides tear and reform to know that she had always harbored feelings for him and just being in the right place at the right time there as he followed her along on his motorbike, begging for her name, wasn't just a coincidence. She didn't have to go back and she certainly didn't have to allow him the liberties he took in getting to know her. At first, he blamed her for the torture she'd given him, but as he grew and matured, he understood why it had all happened. He had come to terms with the reality that she was not able to save James and Lily, for the future had already happened. It was out of her hands and not the right path.

"You saved me," he whispered to her like a seductive incantation.

"I did it for Harry," she confessed, gazing up at him and hypnotizing herself. Her hands slid up the lapels of his coat, making note of how every thread was woven to perfection against him. He felt warm and solid beneath her palms. Knowing him as a man that had lived was far more thrilling than being with him when his life was still a mystery.

"Only for Harry?" he asked, quietly begging for more of an answer.

"No," she began, "I knew you had a life to live and I think, for selfish reasons, I wanted to see if I had that chance, like I wrote in the diary. I knew that my partner in life was always going to be compared to someone like you."

"Why me, Hermione?" His voice was slow and absorbing, like he was trying to discover the real reason for her to have gone back with the Time Turner.

"Because, it was the way you looked at me. The year you were on the run, breaking the rules to visit Harry, to see all of us. You would look at me, like you saw something more. It was like you knew who I was going to be and then I realized that you had lived a life already and still had an incredible adventure ahead of you," she felt his arms pulling her in close as the night breeze blanketed them in the darkness. They still stood before the gates of number twelve, their house just a few feet away. "I was so saddened by your death; I kept replaying it all in my mind about how things could have gone that night. What if I was there, what if I could have done something-?"

"You couldn't have done anything, sweetheart," he calmed. He cradled her close, feeling her entire body beginning to shiver, but not by the cold.

"I found my diary one day and when I saw your handwriting with mine, how elegant, how precise, I just needed to try. I was finally in a position to take a chance and when you came out of the Veil, my heart broke," she confessed, loving the way his arms felt around her as she told her inner secrets. She felt lifted, free and finally ready to move on with him. "It was who you were and what you did and what you lived through that reached out to me. Maybe I was always in love with you and that's why I let myself fall."

Sirius was on the brink of emotions with her, listening to the way she told her story, her inner deep secrets and confessions, and all he wanted was the girl that let him be himself when he was reckless and fearless. Little did he know that she saw him for the man he was going to be in the boy that played pranks with James.

Believing he had the permission, Sirius leaned down to kiss his sweet girl. So young and full of life, he wondered where his place would truly be in her life. He had his doubts at first, but sooner rather than later, he was discovering the depth to what she would do for him all over again, if she had the chance.

When in the foyer, Sirius helped Hermione remove her coat and handed her bags of shopping to put away. As she took the first step, she stopped and turned around as he was just hanging his own coat on a waiting hook.

"What love?" he asked, seeing that she stilled, staring at him from the staircase.

"You tried to tell me, didn't you?" she asked quietly, as if standing on the staircase helped her revisit some memories.

"What's that?" he asked, leaning over the side of the railing, looking up at her like an angel, still holding her shopping.

"Right before I left...you cornered me," she looked at the wall next to her and reached out to touch it, "here."

He said nothing; he only licked his lips and looked away as he remembered when he shoved her up against the wall, demanding to know if she needed him. He recalled the tension in his body, the hungry desired look played on his face, but he also remembered the way her breath hesitated for him...like she wanted it.

"You were so mad at me, furious even-"

"I wasn't angry at you. I was frustrated at the situation. I cracked and I'm not particularly proud of myself for that moment," he recalled, finding it hard to meet her eyes at the moment.

"Still," she said, breaking the tension and turning to finish up the stairs. She fanned herself and said, "You were so incredibly sexy with the way..." her voice faded as she reached her bedroom.

She joined him in the kitchen for what she thought was going to be hot tea, but instead she was met with a glass of red wine in delicate crystal. He stood there holding it out to her with a dashing smirk to the side of his mouth, the top buttons of his shirt undone and he'd rolled his sleeves up his forearms. He looked so regal, so handsome, she could not resist without biting her lip before taking the glass.

After the first sip that tasted aged, but sweet, Sirius reached for her hand, "Come." He took her out the backdoor that emptied out onto the little deck before the back garden. Sirius slid his wand out of his pocket and aimed it up to the hanging branches that hung low over the center of the back garden, "Suspendio Foliage Illuminatus."

His voice recited the spell smooth enough that she was just as enchanted as what was transpiring in the back garden against the starless night. As if someone had strung electric holiday lights through the branches, the tips of every other leaf was illuminated with a silver white glow creating a canopy of magic. The garden was beautiful and it was enough to take her breath away.

Sirius reached for her hand again after tucking his wand in his pocket, "Set down your glass." He started down the steps while setting down his own.

She resisted for a moment, "Sirius, I've no shoes on."

"Even better," he said with a wink, removing her glass from her fingers for her. He pulled her down behind him, stopping a few feet from the center of the back garden and under the pretty white blowing lights.

"What are we-?"

"We never finished that dance on your birthday," he said. His hands were already positioning on her waist and raising her hand up into his.

"My birthday?" she started to recall the night of her twenty first birthday and how she had found Sirius alone on the back steps. They talked for a few minutes, but it was Hermione that had asked him to dance...because it was her birthday.

"I was out here, because I knew your time was getting close," he began, taking the first step to the side as her hand rested on his shoulder. "It was the beginning of the waiting game. I had no idea when you were going to go back, just that one day you would return and everything was going to be different."

Hermione grinned and looked down to see their feet slowly moving from side to side on the grass. Her feet looked so small next to his larger ones in dark alligator leather. She moved closer, so that they were touching now. Her hand that rested politely on his shoulder slid up behind his neck where she could feather her fingers in his soft black waves.

"I remember feeling that you were missing when I was inside the house when everyone was there," she recalled, tilting her head back to better see his face. "I looked around the kitchen, it was right after I opened those running shoes that everyone thought were a great novelty and was laughing when Fleur put them on. I wandered into the study, ran into Charlie, but I was really looking for you and that's what made me go outside."

"You looked so beautiful that night," he whispered, ducking his head to kiss her temple. She smelled so fresh, like jasmine and roses, that it numbed his senses.

"I asked you to dance, because I knew you wouldn't deny me. It was the only thing that I really wanted," she closed her eyes and rested her head against his shoulder, "from you anyway."

They swayed together slowly, the cool crisp breeze circled around them lightly. The enchanted leaves above them slowly began to burn out overhead, until only a few scattered ones remained.

"All I could think of was the way you used to lay your head on my shoulder when we rode my motorbike," he said in a low nostalgic voice. "Or the way your eyes saw me through the crowd when you'd meet me in front of Flourish and Blotts. They were simple things, but those were the moments I held onto for all these years."

"I'm right here, Sirius," she whispered as her hand traced the Azkaban barcode that snuck out just over his collar. "I'm within your reach."

His smell was intoxicating to her and his touch on her body gave her butterflies in her stomach. She imagined herself back at Andromeda's house. The music of Billie Holiday playing in the distance while they shared a quiet intimacy that only involved the two of them together, like they were dancing on air. She felt safe and content, realizing that her mission to go back to him really was successful, for he knew that he was valued. He was desired and loved by the young witch that found solace in his arms that very night.

"If I knew that you would make me feel like this, I would have waited even longer," he whispered against her soft skin.

"Tell me about Azkaban," she whispered, her fingers traced over the skin from the open buttons. Tuffs of chest hair were visible.

"What is there really to tell, other than what you already know," he sighed painfully. The memories were difficult to allow to be repeated, but he would never deny any of her requests.

"Were you afraid?"

A long silence crept along before he shook his head, "No, I wasn't. It wasn't fear that I was experiencing, unlike my neighboring cellmates. I was just ashamed. Being afraid was never a factor, only the nightmares later in my sentence when I got out. The memory of the Dementors was enough to...well, it was very difficult to sleep at night, even when safe here in Grimmauld. But, when I was in there, I was worried what the Order would think, or what you would think." He ducked his head low, so that his face was right next to hers and their lips only inches apart. "Though I dearly missed my friends, I thought of you often. I wondered where you would go. I wondered what you would think of me. I imagined you believing that I would commit such a terrible crime. I kept replaying the night in my head, the vision of James and Lily dying and believing Remus was probably along side with them. I imagined you standing there, waiting for me, only to have the news broken to you by the Daily Prophet."

They had stopped dancing, stopped swaying and they stood together close in the cool night air. Whispers of the wind blessed the branches, causing them to crack and show their season. The night illuminations were nearly gone, the spell having worn away.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, placing a hand over his cheek, kissing him at the corner of his mouth. "I'm sorry you had to endure all of that without knowing any of the truth. I promise to spend all my time making it up to you."

Sirius lifted her chin to meet his lips, sliding his tongue between them, wanting to relay to her the passion that welled up so strongly within him for her. His need for her was like quenching a thirst at the end of a very long journey. His waiting had ceased, his prayers to the Gods had been answered and the way she lifted him was beyond mental paradise. When she was with him, standing there, holding him so close, he was home. He would be glad to be anywhere, but he was home only with her.

Their night together was coming to an end and Hermione was starting up the long staircase with Sirius close on her heels. When they reached the landing with both of their bedrooms, she turned and stopped in front of the thick old door that had long been weathered and aged. It still had the nameplate "Sirius" on it.

She slid her hands up his shirt, letting her eyes linger on the barcode on his neck before lifting them to his hypnotizing grey orbs. His body felt warm and solid, she pressed her palms flat against him, feeling the steady thump of his heart.

Sirius was hesitant when touching her. Even when his fingers traced the outline of her jaw or pushed a stray lock away from her face, he believed she was like a bubble about to burst with first contact and would no longer exist. He would never have dared to softly caress her neckline a few days ago, no matter how enticing she was to him, but now he took direct liberties in doing so. However, every time she took his hand to interlace their fingers, it took his breath away like he was enjoying human contact for the first time.

"I cannot be away from you tonight, no matter what you say," she whispered to him. Their foreheads leaned against the other as teasing kisses were given. His hesitant hands reached out to her waist, closing his eyes for their intimacy. "I'll go change and I'll be right back."

He was at a loss for words when he felt the needy burn in his chest. He watched her pull away and hurry to her own bedroom four doors down. His eyes studied the way she moved with the grace of a Veela. He was concerned for his sanity to resist touching her that evening, knowing it was to be the strongest test of strength.

Crossing over his own threshold and knowing that she had every intention to return to his room was barely enough for Sirius to handle without sitting down and sorting his head out. Memories of the way they used to be intimate rushed back to him like a flood. He remembered what she did and how well she knew how to do it with him.

Touching her would mean the world to him, having waited for so many years for her to come of age and know about their past. But, it was all too soon for her. He needed to allow her time to decide if he was the one she wanted, for tasting her before her decision would only mean a bigger disappointment. He'd rather not know what he was missing, than to live with the recent memories of how she cried out his name while he made her his own.

"Hey," she said as she stood at his door wearing a bathrobe. Sirius hadn't even started to unbutton his waistcoat; his mind was running too quickly.

The side of her mouth smirked when she noticed him shift anxiously when she walked in. She closed the door quietly and turned to admire the dark mahogany furnishings around her. His four poster bed never looked so regal or intriguing with its decorative pillows and maroon comforter. And she never remembered being in there when the lights were so dim, adding a seductive ambiance about the room.

Sirius's eyes were on her as he basked in the child-like thrill that she came into his bedroom willingly and without platonic intentions, even if they were holding out two weeks. He watched her walk across his bedroom with the same grace as a witch whispering a hypnotizing incantation. He was incredibly drawn to her, unable to look away and eager to see what she had on, if anything, under her robe.

His eyes followed her hands, mesmerized by their slow moving gestures. She untied the loose knot and opened it up to reveal herself to him. Very slowly, she slid the robe off her shoulders, allowing it to fall to the floor without any care. Beneath the satin robe, she wore a fitting cotton tank top with tiny matching shorts that exposed more of her skin than he was ready to see. However, just like he remembered, her skin looked smooth and her legs a milky pale white that were slim, but firm, as he recalled the way they would wrap around his waist.

Hermione was not blind to notice him studying her every movement like a lion getting ready to pounce on his pray, so she took slow timid steps towards him. She looked down towards the rug, but her eyes looked up on their own from dark mysterious eye lashes. She feigned bashful and her heart skipped a beat to notice that hungry look in his eye that made him appear weak and vulnerable to her every wish.

She stood a mere twelve inches away and he chanced a glance down to her pleasantly displayed bosom beneath stretching cotton. His mouth watered to kiss her skin just once. He hungered for her touch, just to feel the satin-like flesh beneath his finger tips. His allure to her was like a vampire to blood on its first night. He felt his breath beginning to shorten the tougher he needed to be as she pushed herself into his personal space she was very much welcome in.

Hermione sensed his pleasurable discomfort and pushed all her enchantments towards him, in the event he might cave. She heard his intake of breath and moved in closer hoping to lure him in enough that he might concede to their overwhelming urge to be one again. The suffering was not one-sided, Hermione's skin began to burn for his touch. She yearned to be handled the way she used to, submitting to his desires and discovering new ones. His aura was strong and powerful and it reined her in like a beacon.

Exhaling slight frustration, but with innocence, she said, "You can touch me, Sirius."

His eyes trailed down over her collarbone, imagining himself leaving hot suggesting kisses along her skin. He sighed, "You're going to make this very hard on me, you know that, right?"

Hermione looked away, feigning innocence, "That's my intention."

The room was quiet, aside from the ticking clock on the wall. If silence made a sound, it would be thick, like rushing water and both bedroom occupants could hear it.

His shoulders relaxed as she stepped closer to him. She was beautiful and barefoot, running her hands up over his chest and settling on the buttons of his waistcoat. His insides felt like warm lava stirring about him, making his blood boil with her presence near him. He appraised her young features blessed with satin-like skin and admired the slight swell of her breasts dipping beneath her tank top.

He was stiff, frigid even, as she stood before him, lightly tracing each button of his clothing. Having her standing at this close proximity was causing his pulse to quicken. Her smell filled his senses, rendering a brilliant wizard powerless. He made no movement when she leaned up to touch his lips with feather-like pressure. Holding his own, his arms to his sides, his hands balled into fists, he fought against the overwhelming urge to take her where they stood. But, he remained steadfast and firm, allowing her to trace her fingers along his neck where his shirt met at the bent collar without any risk. He wanted to pinch himself, convincing himself that all was really happening. Having her there so close against him was too good to be true.

Hermione pulled away, sensing that something was off. She could tell that Sirius had tensed up under her hands. Her eyes met his, dark and weary, pained and tortured. It was like she was reading his mind and seeing the lightning sparks of confliction. He was torn, beaten and mentally exhausted with what had been placed before him.

"Do you remember the first night we made love?" she whispered, her fingers beginning to unbutton his waistcoat for him.

"It was a long time ago, but of course, I remember that," his voice was hoarse as he watched her carefully.

"You lifted me onto the counter and started to remove my clothing there," she recalled, letting the words fall from her tongue like she were slowly casting a spell to convince him of their necessary need. "You carried me into the living room and we did it all in front of the fire on that soft fur rug."

"I love that you remember it as vividly as I do," he praised.

"Of course," she opened his waistcoat and slid it down his arms. "It was only a month ago."

"I might need you to recall a few things, at times."

"Or, what about when you took me for a ride on your motorbike and we stopped in that field to watch the clouds overhead before the storm?"

"I kept you on the bike," he began on his own; she pulled his shirt out of his pants to start on the bottom buttons.

"The wind was fierce that day and it made my skin cold," she explained, never looking away from his eyes as she captivated him with her own memory. "You ripped my panties off of me, lifted my skirt high to my waist and with very little convincing, took me right there over your motorbike."

"You were so gorgeous," Sirius said, running a hand down her cheek; his fingers traced softly under her jaw as she unbuttoned his shirt fully. "Your face in the shadowed sky radiated like a Grecian goddess to me. I loved the way you screamed my name into the heavens."

"I managed to balance rather well with my legs around your waist, but it was when you put me down and bent me over the seat that made it undoubtedly hard to stop," she cooed.

Sirius was numb from his toes to his fingertips as she replayed the image of their public coupling. She explained it better than he could remember and it was then that he realized images and memories were somewhat blurry to him. Not that he didn't want to remember, just that it was fifteen years ago, plus the five he was floating in oblivion and who can remember what they did day to day twenty years ago?

Her fingers lingered along the delicate cotton of his shirt, his chest visible between the two panels. Like she was opening a desired disguised present, she pressed her palms between the fabric and opened it to see him. Slowly sliding it off his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor, her hands smoothed over the chiseled planes of his torso, taking in each muscle and each curve that had changed.

He was tan and mature, his chest was well defined and adorned with intricate markings and scars from his days incarcerated. She bit her lip as she admired him, her fingers tracing lightly over each design, memorizing their placement. It was like touching a legend, a man she had only read about in stories, and now was at the touch of her fingertips. He was real and he was hers.

He submitted to her control, allowing her to touch him in any way she wanted. His breath caught as her fingers and their velvet touch caressed him. She made him feel alive again, appreciated and aroused. His senses were peaked, taking in each touch carefully, finding his resistance excruciating.

"Am I much different?" he asked, watching the way her eyes studied him like he were an intriguing puzzle.

"You are, but I think you're more beautiful now than before," she said. Her fingers slid around his neck to gently caress his ears. She loved how strong he developed. Far from the boy that took her to bed, he was now more of a man comfortable in his own skin. "This is the man I wanted to come home to. This is the man I was wishing for."

"It has been agony watching you," he kissed her passionately and with desperate need while holding her tightly to him.

She managed to break away for a second, her breath ragged and absolutely submerged in him, "I'm home."

They laid together side by side, Hermione on her stomach and Sirius on his back, both watching the other. Her hand was resting on his chest and he frequently pressed her palm to his lips, closing his eyes and reminding himself that she was not a hallucination from years of tormented memories and yearning. She was flesh and bone and lying beside him, where she wanted to be. They talked very little, asking questions and telling stories of their pasts. Sirius spoke most of the time, retelling the darker times of his solitude and his ultimate escape from Azkaban. Hermione would remain silent, gazing at him like he was a real life character from one of her history books. She was happy to tell him that his name had made it in the latest edition of "Hogwarts: A History" regarding the secret passages under the school, but sadly informed they had since been discovered and resealed.

Realistically, life was getting in the way of the reconnection. Hermione had no choice but to return to work, going and keeping her lips sealed on her personal new developments. Her head was nowhere near as focused as it should have been when dealing with the remaining aftermath of the Veil survivors (Sirius was one of the first cleared and released, due to his high profile case), so she volunteered her position with paperwork, taking in reports of how they were adjusting in society since their return.

When home in Grimmauld Place, Hermione slipped in through the front door to an allure of Italian spices from the kitchen down the hall. After hanging up her coat, she glanced into the sitting room to see Sirius sprawled out on the sofa with his feet propped up on the ottoman and a book lay open on his chest. Darkly handsome and oblivious to the occasional loud clink erupting from the kitchen, he dozed pleasantly as if he'd just nodded off in mid sentence.

Removing her shoes, Hermione was careful not to step on the hard wood floors that might wake him. His legs were stretched out in front of him, so she stepped over to straddle them, pulling her skirt up and easing herself slowly onto his lap. She bent her knees on either side of him and removed the book that was resting on his chest.

Her shifting weight woke him and his eyes opened on a relieving heavenly thought. His hands settled on her waist as she rested her arms around his neck. She said nothing to him, but kissed him as she shared in his silence.

Waking up to her straddling his lap and smelling her sweet intoxicating scent was only what he dreamed of. Her lips slid over his, her tongue to follow and he drank into her with the dire need of missing love. His hands wrapped around her waist tightly, pulling her against him so that she could feel him thrust just enough to remind her he was a patient man.

She smiled into the kiss at the feel of him, acknowledging his muscle hardening beneath her. She giggled innocently, gasping for breath and whispering, "In good time, my dear."

The tips of her hair tickled his cheeks and his breath was near to a pant when she pulled away. He crept a hand behind her head, tugging gently on her soft brown curls, "I missed you."

Pulling back and touching her forehead to his, her eyes fell heavy at the sound of his voice, "I missed you, too." She curled her fingers into his hair while running a free hand between them down his chest. She lingered over the top two buttons, eager to open his shirt.

Chuckling deeply at her eager playfulness, he stopped her fingers, "Sweetheart, Remus is home."

"That's his problem," she cooed, watching the way his brow perked.

They shared a moment before her dejected fingers left his fastenings and met her other wandering hand that combed through is black locks. Her face ducked closer, her bitten lip acting as an enticement for his passion. She leaned against him more, pinning him to the couch willingly as the beast within him started to stir. Her arms settled around his neck, her brown curls falling around her shoulders, shielding their show from onlooking portraits. Sirius complied and felt the fire surging through his veins. His hands slid to her rear and with an easy adjustment, shifted her closer to him.

With a slight thrust of his thighs, he reminded her of the hardening muscle sheathed only by expensive wool. He left nothing to the imagination, knowing that his actions were not foreign to her. It had just been so long that he had acted upon them with her; it felt like more old habits coming to surface. It was ages ago that he was able to feel her in this capacity and though, at times, it still felt very taboo, he knew that this was right in every sense of the word.

"Is this what you really want?" he whispered hoarse, his hands sliding up under her shirt and running a thumb over the clasp of her bra.

"I want _you_, Sirius," she moaned desperately against him.


	3. You Never Forget

_A note from Serade Black_: _Apologies for the long update. I've been getting ready for INFINITUS in Orlando. I'd like to say hello to: irridecent dreams who left me an incredible message! I'm gradually picking up steam for this story, for as you know I take FOREVER to get to it. Trust me, I'm getting there. Also, this chapter has been edited for "adult content" and can be read in full on my livejournal link (on my bio page). I cannot post the juicy stuff here, for if you're familiar, frowns on that sort of stuff and hence the reason my name is LadySeradeRETURNS (I've already been banned once!). Enjoy - SB_

Ch. 3 -

Each new day the sun tried to come out on its chilly November morning gave new feeling to the house. As it settled on its ancient foundation, creaking with every other step down the staircase, it was a constant reminder that life does move on. It evolves into something grander from the grand and more unique with each passing day.

That morning of all mornings, Hermione felt more than confident with the progress she and Sirius were making together. Though they were already an item, the small walls they had subconsciously built up in order to tear down were beginning to crumble and as she walked into the kitchen, the sounds of tinkering cups and sizzling pans met her with a particular uplifting beat in her heart.

Remus sat at the end of the table; the Daily Prophet propped up and open to read before him. He was still relaxing in his robe and butter was being smeared over his toast. He blindly stirred the spoon without touching it and was reading the latest Quidditch scores aloud.

"Ireland came in again? Blimey, they're really trying to prove themselves this season, aren't they?" Sirius stood in front of the stove, already dressed for his day in charcoal colored slacks and a maroon buttoned shirt. His waistcoat and jacket lay on the back of a chair. He glanced over his shoulder and smiled when he saw Hermione. "Hello, love," he said with a husky voice aged to perfection.

Hermione smiled back and went to his side, her hand resting low on his back. She watched as he carefully turned over eggs with a flick of his wand, "How come I don't see you do this very often?"

He gave her a sly wink, "I'm full of many surprises."

She hesitated, but then rose on her toes to leave a kiss on his cheek, tickling her lips with the side of his beard. As she came down, Sirius turned where he stood, placing both hands to the side of her face and kissed her properly, like he'd never been happier to have her there. The air left her lungs immediately for he never caught her off guard like that, since the day she came back. His passion was intense, his hands gripped gently and his lips were determined to make her know that he loved her.

As they pulled away, she was breathless more than he was, she added, "It's things like that, that make me want to quit the Ministry." She let a finger trail down his neck, lightly touching his Azkaban barcode.

He smiled again. His entire demeanor displayed peace and contentment. The situation was settling well with him, even with the adjustments and there was no doubt by the look in his eyes that he did not want anything else.

"I would leave, but haven't anywhere else to go at the moment," Remus said in a monotone voice, not looking up from behind the Prophet.

Shaking her head from Sirius's grip and bringing herself back to reality, she felt the uncomfortable third set of eyes that weren't on them. She quickly pulled away and cleared her throat, "Sorry, Remus. I forgot to say good morning."

Sirius resumed his cook duties and finished preparing breakfast for all three of them. Their conversation was moderate, with the topic returning to the subject of whether Harry should know about Hermione's journey and her visit with his parents. After weighing the pros and cons, the tally that concluded Harry not know. Should Harry discover her journey, questions would arise to why his parents were not saved. No matter how Hermione would have tried to justify her travels, Harry would not be satisfied, nor would he understand. The journey of the Time Turner would forever remain a secret between Sirius, Hermione and Remus.

0o0o0o0o0

It had been over a week since Hermione's initial return. Things were slowly shaping up into a bit of normalcy and the energy around the house was a happy one. Secrets were kept, should they have any visitors, and Hermione and Sirius played it off rather well that they were merely flat mates. Of course, once the sun went down and they retired to bed, she would sneak into his room undetected from any overnight guests.

The soft high thread count sheets covered Hermione's body with a silky sheath. She turned into its crevices, nestling her body into its confines while lying on her side to look at the handsome wizard that faced her. His arm was draped around her slender waist, while she took a finger and traced each line of his tattoos. She admitted she was somewhat fascinated with them.

He sighed heavily with his sense of contentment. Having her close and preoccupied with anything having to do with him was more than he could ask. His eyes studied every minor detail on her: from the way her hair fell over her shoulders, to the freckle on her neck, to the subtle twitch of her lip as she spoke. His fingers traced circles over the small of her back, biding his time until he could love her freely.

In the late hours of night, when the moon was only half, there was still enough light to silhouettes in dark places. The foundation of the house settled; its old staircases and walls giving off a random creak in the silence. Portraits were in the midst of sleeping standing up, while others were grateful to have been painted a chair along with them for added support.

Beyond the third door, on the third landing, was where Sirius and Hermione hid their secret. Underneath soft sheets and a cozy warm comforter, the young witch wrapped herself around the former Azkaban prisoner with every limb she possessed. Still very clothed, she snuggled against him like they were naked, hoping for the brief touch of flesh to flesh.

They'd made it an entire week without consummating their evident relationship. Sirius still holding fast and not submitting to her temptations thus far, he could not help himself when the opportunity presented itself that he might caress the soft skin of her arm or take in the fragrant smell of her hair. She helped him escape from his reality that he did not live the history that was written on him and they were both young together, their future laying before them.

However, Sirius was still a man and he could only hold out for so long. Though he promised himself he would wait, he found that he could only make it so long before his other side started to whisper encouraging thoughts into his mind and with just a gentle stroke, she would succumb to his desperate desire.

Without even opening his eyes, her young body called to him. He sensed her need and he knew what they both wanted from each other. With a slow start, he moved his hand over her stomach, letting his fingers graze her exposed skin. His hand ventured further, moving down her hip and over her thigh where he began tracing small circles on her arm. She remained still. His hand brushed over her stomach again, hoping to feel the velvet soft skin of her belly, making the tank top she wore rise a little higher. Sirius's fingers followed and he slowly raised his gentle caresses just beneath the rise of her breasts, barely grazing the underside.

He leaned in and began leaving gentle kisses against her temple, soothing her awake. She stirred slightly and turned into him more, blindly feeling for him and running her own hand down his arm. As she settled around him, she felt peace within her body. His hand went over her flat belly again, risking a second touch of the underside of her breast as her shirt slid up. Hermione stopped his hand from traveling on its own and slowly pushed it beneath her shirt to lay intimately on her nakedness. She heard his sharp intake of breath against her ear.

"Touch me," she whispered. Barely opening her eyes, she could only make out his silhouette in the moonlight, but the idea of him was enough to set her free. She was desperate for his touch; for this was the most he'd done since her return.

Her hands started to move over his strong stiff arms, squeezing at the bicep to encourage his fondling. She roamed across his back, feeling his muscles flex under her palms as he moved against her, taking in every shift and every crevice. Her lips left small feather-like kisses down his collarbone and under his neck where she ran her cheek against his hard stubble. Her leg slid next to his, pointing her toes as she felt the soft linen pants he wore and wrapping herself tightly around his waist.

He held her wrists above her head and leaned close to her ear. With a voice that could peel paint off the wall, he whispered the Russian spell against her. Hermione panted heavy, her eyes slamming shut as the warm sensation filled her. His body contracted in his hold, his arms weakening over her. He kissed her as he rode it out, his own breath difficult to manage. Their hearts beat as one, barely a word was said and the two remained limb locked for the rest of the night.

0o0o0o0o0o0

The sky outside was overcast. A few morning birds perched on low branches to watch muggle passers-by take to the streets for their morning commute. Just like every other day, someone would casually glance up to the numbers of the houses down the street, smirking to themselves that the building management had obviously made a grave mistake in the numbering between number eleven and number thirteen.

On the third floor, the second door on the left remained quiet. Sirius rolled away from the entrapment of his naked young witch's limbs, laying on his back and rubbing his eyes with one hand. He reached for his pocket watch that was left on his night stand and flipped open the brass catch to check the time. It was earlier than expected. He put the time piece back on the table and turned his head to be welcomed by warm eyes.

She smiled weakly, still in a sleepy state and closed her eyes again as she reached to rest an arm over his chest. "Morning, Sirius," she said quietly.

He smiled back slightly, whispering back and ran his fingers down her soft cheek, cherishing their close proximity. She was beautiful as she lay there next to him. Her hair fanned around her head over the pillow, tussled and untamed. Her slender neck curved to her soft shoulders where the sheets lay dangerously low, exposing the swelling of her breast.

"I'm glad you finally came to your senses," she whispered.

He cupped her cheek in his hand, "I can't turn back, now. I need you to breath."

Her eyes opened refreshed and hypnotized by his grey ones. He had so much to offer and though time was between them, it felt like they were picking up where they left off, only with new intentions. He was so dangerously handsome to her. His shoulders were strong, his chest defined and adorned with tribal tattoos of his incarceration. Her hands reached out to feel him, to have him closer again as she slid her leg over his waist.

"I just feel that I've finally won you, now. It's been a very long road...dreaming of you. Men like you only exist in history books."

He chuckled quietly and said, "I'm just so sorry it took us so long to get back to each other, again."

After a few more minutes of good morning snogging, complete with a few moments of Sirius just "sticking it in for a minute", they got up to have morning tea. Sirius slipped on his linen pants and Hermione was left with shards of her shorts, but settled on just wearing her robe downstairs.

Hermione entered the kitchen with Sirius close on her heels, when they were greeted with the smell of bacon and eggs sizzling in a frying pan on the stove. Next to it, the kettle steamed. Harry and Ron were bustling around the kitchen, while Remus sat at the far end of the table reading the Daily Prophet. They came upon a scene that could have flashed back at least four years ago to a happy, lively kitchen. As Harry stood at the stove, turning over a pair of eggs, he smiled to his best friend and Godfather as walked in. He bid them a good morning and asked if they wanted some breakfast.

The secret couple stopped to survey the room on their own, taking notice with the way Remus acknowledged by adding a slight smirk on his lips. The young wizards seemed to be in light spirits that morning, wearing orange quidditch jerseys of the Chudley Cannons.

"Sirius, eggs? Hermione, there is toast already on the table if you want to help yourself." Harry took no notice at the close proximity Sirius was standing to Hermione as he was just pleased they had more company that morning as they took over Grimmauld Place's kitchen. He glanced to Ron, reaching for the steaming kettle that protested its readiness. "Ron, Sirius likes two sugars."

"I'm not a bloody house elf, mate," Ron joked, giving a nod to Sirius who was still standing behind Hermione in a slightly frigid state. "Hermione, still one sugar?"

As if being doused with water when hearing her name called, Hermione remembered that she was still standing in the kitchen in only her robe and nothing else. Subconsciously, she tightened the terrycloth belt and raised he chin, pretending that she was no unnerved. "Yes, Ron. Thank you."

She paid no further attention to Sirius, making a careful effort to sit on the other side of the large oak table, away from him. She smiled sweetly to Remus, who otherwise could not seem to make his lips unsmirk when she'd catch his attention.

Sirius rounded his shoulders, or rather he slipped into a calming composure. He patted Harry on the back, showing his gratitude and overall affection to see his Godson. He never wanted to seem ungrateful for the times Harry would drop in unannounced. Though the Chosen One was nearly twenty-two these days, Sirius still felt he would forever play the role as "surrogate" father and had years to make up for his absence. It seemed a moot point with Remus having somewhat filled those shoes for awhile. On the other hand, it was a mutual understanding what place Sirius had in Harry's life and if they could turn the clocks back, they would have.

"Well done and scrambled, son," Sirius requested, turning to take his seat on the far end of the table, away from Hermione. He forbid himself to sneak longing looks to the pretty witch sitting next to his best friend, trying to dim his radiating glow.

Ron turned from the counter to bring Sirius his tea. He set the saucer and cup before him and whistled, "Sirius, what happened to your neck? You've two or three deep red marks...are those bite marks?"

Remus pretended to remain mesmerized by the last page of the Daily Prophet, but couldn't help but clear his throat just quietly enough for Hermione to take notice. She snapped her head up just as her cheeks blushed a rose color.

Sirius hesitated, assessing the red marks he could see on his chest. "Ah," he started, clearing his throat, "Must have been this witch I've been seeing."

"Excellent!" Ron exclaimed, admiring Sirius like some sort of icon. "Funny, I haven't seen you with a bird lately."

"It's a fairly new thing," Sirius was quick to add. His voice was calm and convincing, like he had it already scripted in his head.

"You are going to bring her around, so we can meet her?" Harry asked, coming to the table with warm plates of steaming eggs and sausage. There was a heavy clink as he set them on the hard wood table.

"Not right away, I'm afraid. Don't want to scare her away, you know. I carry a lot of baggage, remember," Sirius added, taking a bite of his toast and glancing down towards Remus, but letting his eyes linger just a few seconds over the pretty brunette with the tousled brown hair.

"Wow, mate! Looks like she did a number on you," Ron added with a friendly nudge to Harry, pointing out that he had at least four different markings along his chest and by his collarbone.

From the end of the table, Hermione was in agony over the taboo conversation. They were teetering on endangering themselves, risking the early exposure of their relationship and sitting at the breakfast table naked under a robe was not the way to approach it.

"Do we have to talk about this at breakfast?" Hermione piped up, feigning disinterest. "I hardly think this is decent conversation."

"Sorry, Hermione," Harry said pulling on a bite of bacon. "Hey, where were you? I peeked into your room, but you weren't in there."

Panicking for a second, Hermione looked up, her eyes skimming over Sirius for a second, but managed to convince her friend, "Must have been in the bathroom when you looked in."

"My brothers and I were wondering if you'd be up for a pick up game of quidditch, Sirius." Ron asked, fairly animated to invite Sirius. "We go to this wizard park just on the other side of London." He started to address the rest of the table, or whoever would listen to him, "The outside gates are designed to make it look like an old waste dump." He glanced towards the end of the table at Remus, "Care to join us too, Remus?"

Remus folded his paper and gave Sirius an alarming look when he noticed the markings on his chest. He shook his head and added, "No, I'm starting my old job back at Flourish and Blotts this afternoon."

"Remus, that's brilliant! Please, let me know if anything good comes in, would you?" Hermione said with eager delight. She only wished she had taken advantage of Remus working there the first time he was employed by the bookstore, but it was against the rules. This time would be different.

"Fantastic Moony, just like old times again," Sirius piped up.

"Yes," he began as he stood up, folding the newspaper back onto the table. "But, perhaps you won't be there waiting outside the store for days, waiting for a particular witch to come by and join you." He smirked slightly and glanced briefly to Hermione. He noticed her cheeks perk red as she reached for the newspaper with flashing pictures.

Harry was the first to grin, his eyes on his Godfather. "You sat outside the bookstore for days waiting on a girl?"

Sirius shook his head, his black hair falling before his shoulder as he reached over and stole a piece of Harry's toast. "I was pretty hung up on this witch for awhile, so I had to go to one of her favorite places in order to lure her in."

Hermione remained quiet and still as her eyes traced over the same words to the top story of the Daily Prophet over and over again. She bit her lower lip to remain calm.

"Really? You were falling for a bookworm?" Ron chirped in, grinning as he chewed with his mouth open. Bits of egg fell on his shirt. "Sirius, wouldn't see that for you, mate."

"Well Ron, sometimes you cannot help who you fall for," Sirius said very plainly as he stood to refill his tea. He patted the ginger on the shoulder as he passed.

"Perhaps you should be dating, Hermione," Harry added with a light chuckle, "They don't make them like her, anymore."

"Hmm, tempting, but I think she's out of my league," he chuckled. "What do you say, love? Shall we have a go?" Sirius said in a merry voice, almost testing the taboo and the temperature of the house guests.

Feeling like the tips of her ears had turned as pink as the blood in her head allowed, Hermione got up to refresh her tea as well. As she neared the counter, she couldn't help but reply, "Absolutely."

She stood at the counter next to Sirius, holding her cup out to be refilled with the steaming hot water from the kettle. He gave her a sly wink and whispered, "Perhaps we might need to start locking the door." Hermione only nodded for him, her eyes glancing over at Ron and Harry from time to time to make sure they couldn't hear them. "As well as casting 'Silencio'."

Hermione looked up horrified, "You didn't? I thought you did!"

Sirius shrugged and smirked, setting the kettle back down on the burner, "Wasn't really on my mind at the time."

Hermione's face cringed; feeling scandalized and incredibly embarrassed. She tugged her robe closed a little more, feeling incredibly exposed all of a sudden. Her naked skin brushed past the terrycloth as a reminder of their naughty act. Still, her lips couldn't help but smirk into a slight approving smile.

"So, are you in?" Harry asked, still mashing pancake into his mouth. He and Ron had all but devoured their breakfasts like two savages, with only crumbs left as proof.

Sirius turned around, holding a fresh cup of tea and sipping it carefully, "For quidditch?" He leaned against the counter, his arm just grazing hers.

"I've got no plans today, so I'll come and watch," Hermione added casually. She wanted to spend any time with Sirius that day that she could. Even if it meant watching some coordinated and some not so coordinated wizards balance on brooms.

"Sorry that Ginny is away at University, might be a bit boring for you," Ron said, standing to put dishes in sink.

"No, a good Confundus charm works wonders for entertainment, Ronald," she was quick to add, "If you can remember."

Ron grinned at her for a moment, remembering how she helped him their sixth year at Hogwarts, then ducked his head and walked passed, "Oh, Charlie's in town, so you know he'll be out there if you're out there."

"Your brother, Charlie?" Sirius asked, raising his cup suspiciously to his lips. He couldn't help but flex his chest when he caught Hermione glancing over to inspect the 'bite' marks over his tattoos.

"Yeah, he's got it bad for Hermione, here. Keeps asking when she's free, but I told him to just send her an owl himself. I'm not his bloody secretary!" Ron declared, pushing in the chairs at the table, a habit he certainly picked up from his mother.

Remus had left the kitchen first, eager to get on off to work. Ron was close behind, having grabbed a muffin that was sitting on the counter. As Harry caught the swinging door, he took one last look behind him to see Sirius smiling down at Hermione. They looked peaceful together, friendly and comfortably. It was merely Harry's observation and with only a slight thought on his mind, he left the kitchen.


	4. Waiting and Watching

_A note from Serade Black: It has taken ages for me to update, but forgive me, I'm fresh from Infinitus and still recooperating! So, many of you are wondering who the mystery man is...you'll be meeting him in good time. Thank you to all the readers and reviewers, they do keep me going. I have every intention of finishing this story (estimating about 22 chapters total), as I have another one in the works. Enjoy ~ SB_

Chapter 4 ~ Waiting and Watching

The sign out front of the seven foot tall chain link fence said, "Keep Out" with caution tape wound between the links. The sign was hanging from only one hinge. However, just behind it, it was easy to see a lush field of grass, sidewalks, benches and even a snack stand with a huge sign reading, "Frozen Butter beer" in flashing yellow letters.

Harry, Ron, Sirius and Hermione pushed through the gate to get on the magical side. They followed the walking path, nodding friendly greetings to passers-by that were leaving. Beyond the open field suitable for a couple of friendly games of quidditch, there was a row of trees that disappeared beyond canopy branches, giving shade on warmer days or protection from dripping skies.

Hermione followed the three men holding broomsticks through the park and glanced around to see if there were any familiar witches or wizards that may have been sharing the afternoon with them. There were mothers playing with their children, fathers laughing as they played games with their older sons and little girls playing patty-cake while sitting in the sandbox. Her eyes scanned the crowd and over by the concession, she caught a pair of eyes watching the four of them walking with great intrigue. A figure with dark hair and medium build watched each one of them carefully, causing a shiver to travel down her spine.

"Sirius," she whispered, but when he responded, she glanced back and the figure was gone. He must have Apparated. "Never mind, sorry."

They met up with Charlie, Fred and Lee, their old friend from Hogwarts. They were sitting down in the field, their wands out and charming their makeshift snitch to explode and reconnect in mid air. They stood as they saw their friends coming closer.

"No trick snitches! That's unfair and last time it burned Harry's hand," Ron pointed, raising his voice and trying to display authority to his older brothers.

"No tricks, little brother," Fred added, and put away his wand. "It's merely my own talent."

"Where's George?" Hermione piped up, glancing to all the faces in the circle as they met up.

"He minds the shops on Saturdays, I get Sundays," Fred said, nudging his brother Charlie in the arm with obvious intentions.

"Good to see you, Hermione," Charlie said, everyone noticing, except for Sirius, the obvious attraction and the sleeveless shirt he wore to display his new Horntail tattoo that wrapped all the way down his arm.

"Been a bit, Charlie."

"Okay! Who's on what team?" Sirius interrupted, slapping his hands together to get the game started. He wondered how long he was going to be able to keep his mouth shut, knowing this valuable information of his twenty-six year old rival.

Hermione ducked her head to hide her grin and turned to find a place to sit down.

"Not joining us, Hermione?" Fred called out, watching his brother's best friend and ex-girlfriend go off towards the nearby lounge chairs for those that would otherwise be sunbathing.

"No, just a spectator today. I needed a good laugh," she added, falling into the chair and propping her feet up in a way that she was ready for the game to begin.

Her eyes scanned the crowd again, trying to see where that distinguishable man had gone to. The person glancing their way was unfamiliar and distracted. The man must have left.

A quick glance back to her own party and she couldn't help but slide her lips into a smirk. She watched as Sirius mounted his broom with such finesse, it was like he was mounting a motorbike in mid air. As if the piece between his legs was nothing but a prop, rather than an essential part of the game, for he played the character as player rather well. Standing handsome and ready in his denim jeans and fitting long sleeved maroon shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbow, he met her gaze with a slight wink.

The men soared about eight feet in the air once they kicked off the ground nearly in unison. They took on multiple positions: beater and chaser or chaser and keeper, leaving Harry as the lone seeker. It was an easy game to watch, fun at times to hear the swears or see the crude gestures the brothers would pass. Their snide remarks were not hidden from Sirius, including him whenever they were looking for an ally. Though Sirius was close to thirty-eight, he still played like one of the boys, not afraid of getting dirty and certainly not afraid to cheat if the opportunity called for it.

An hour into their playing, Hermione snuck off to retrieve some snacks and refreshments, surely winning the "best girl" award when she came back with butter beers for everyone. Collectively, they decided on a short break between games. Harry took it upon himself to try and get Sirius alone, hoping to talk to him about a pressing matter he had on his mind.

The two men followed the path along the green grass. Cracks in the mixture of cobblestone and cement crossed before them, depicting several years of hidden muggle waste dump outings and long afternoon quidditch games for generations before them.

"What's on your mind, son?" Sirius asked, nudging him to see a pretty girl stretching her arms over by the pond.

"Honestly? That," Harry chuckled, raising his eyebrows at her revealing soft stomach.

Sirius gave Harry a side glance, his eyes falling to the sidewalk to which they followed. "You want to talk about women, Harry? I don't think a man who has become recently engaged should-"

"No, no. Not me, you," Harry said in jest and threw an arm around his godfather as they walked. Somehow, the roles felt reversed. He cleared his throat as he continued, "You said you're seeing someone, already?"

Sirius was taken for a moment, unsure how to continue on. Thinking of how much his godson knew, he ran a slightly shaking hand through his falling dark locks. "I am, but I'd rather not really discuss it, just yet."

Harry nodded, pulling his arm away and taking a sip of his butter beer, "No, I understand. I was just wondering, depending on how serious it was, what you thought of Hermione.

Sirius immediately halted, awestruck almost, his eyes on Harry as if he'd been caught with his hands in the cauldron. His lips parted, his brow furrowed and with a slight tilt of his chin, he continued, "Say that again?"

Across the field, beyond the path, Hermione was just returning to her lounge chair to settle in for the next series of games. Her eyes scanned in the direction of the walking path, seeing two figures conversing together with a steady walk.

Her moment appraising her older wizard was interrupted by not one, but two Weasleys that cornered her on her chair by sitting on the end of it. She feigned interest and cleared her throat, folding her hands delicately in her lap. Her surroundings were too out in the open to not be noticed running away.

"Ron, can you give us a moment?" Charlie requested as his awkward brother failed to take the hint when he first starting walking over to Hermione.

Ron quickly caught the side glance beneath shaggy red hair and exhaled an inaudible curse under his breath. He busied himself with Fred, anxious to discuss a new invisibility potion they had acquired at the shop, leaving Hermione alone with the tattooed Charlie.

Feeling her cheeks warm just slightly, she couldn't help but glance down her chair companion's arm. Such an intricate design winding over each muscle, along each vein, curving down under his wrist. A quick swallow and slight nod and she confirmed that they did nothing for her, as her interests lay more with the scars and remainders of her prisoner's tattoos. It proved that it wasn't the markings she was fond of, but on whom they were etched.

The moment between them was too silent, and Charlie attempted to play it to his advantage when he caught her glancing at his decorated arm. "So, I'm just wondering if you're free tonight and if you'd let me take you out to dinner?"

Hermione's lips parted, her eyes glancing down the way to where Sirius and Harry had stopped to talk by themselves. She shook her head, pretending not to have heard the question, "Sorry, what?"

"I asked would you have dinner with me, tonight. I'm in town for a couple more days and it would be nice to spend some time together," Charlie repeated with an addition. His voice had a hint of arrogance, like he'd already known the answer.

Hermione was quick to excuse, glancing past him to his other brothers and how they found humor in tossing exploding bumble bees in bystander's paths. She shook her head as she imagined being a part of that family and its forever practical jokes. However, Charlie was far different than his brothers and by far, the best looking if you didn't include Bill, married, in the equation. Still, Hermione's heart was already taken.

"Thank you, Charlie. I appreciate the offer, however I'm already seeing someone," she declined politely. The words sounded odd when she heard herself say them aloud.

"Really? Ron said you've been free since you've dated him," he added curious.

"Charlie, forgive me, but I wouldn't be telling my ex-boyfriend about my personal relationships. You have to understand that, I'd hope."

Charlie took a moment to contemplate her answer, but resorted to a slight nod, "No, you're right, Hermione. Sorry. Guess I was too late in asking."

A small skip in her heart concluded that she was flattered by the invitation, but felt a stronger pang for the rejection. She tried to soothe the situation, "Yes, just a little late. But, thank you, Charlie." Feeling brave, she reached out and patted his arm with a couple of fingers, pointing to his new tattoo, "I like this. It's new, isn't it?"

Back across the field, Sirius was stopped and looking at his godson like he had two heads and eighteen eyes. His general reaction was far calmer than expected, but was not prepared for Harry to bring up the obvious. "Say that again, Harry? Are you asking me what I think of, Hermione?"

"Yeah," he shrugged. "I mean, she's pretty-"

"No, she's beautiful."

"You've noticed, huh?" Harry asked with a perked eyebrow at his Godfather, but Sirius was quiet. "I don't see her that way, but she is very pretty. I guess she's the sort of girl that might be good for you. She's lonely, you're lonely-"

"I'm not lonely, son," Sirius chucked, shaking his head.

Harry smiled and rolled his eyes, "I meant more of a loner. Remus mentioned that you once sat outside waiting for a girl in front of a bookstore, so I couldn't help but wonder if you two would be a good pair. Hermione likes books!"

The whole situation seemed a bit surreal, but Sirius played it off like a champ, amused by the "talk" they were having. "And all this came to mind, because Remus told you this?" There was a slight grin to the side of his mouth.

"Actually, I've been thinking it for a few weeks, now. I've noticed the way Hermione looks at you, especially since she first moved in with the two of you. You already know her, and well, I guess I can see how this might sound odd." Harry turned and started to retreat back on the path.

"No, it's not odd, Harry," Sirius pacified, glancing back up towards Hermione who was now touching Charlie's arm with her finger, no doubt admiring his new tattoo. A slight twist in his gut forced him to clear his throat and continue on, "I won't lie and say I haven't noticed her; she's all over the house. However, I can't help but fear that some of that may be strange for you."

"Not really, no. I mean, to Ron it might, but I'm sure he'll get over it. And if you are interested, might want to act fast because, it looks like Charlie is closing in on her." Harry was quick to notice the obvious body language of Charlie and the way he looked at Hermione. It looked completely one-sided, but he couldn't help but cheer on his own, before losing Hermione to another Weasley, with all due respect.

"I think you're right," Sirius said quietly, but secretly seething.

"Great, I'll talk to her!" Harry chirped, pleased to hear of the good prospects.

"That's all right, Harry. I can handle it on my own. I'm sure I'll be able to sway her. That is, if she's into older men," he teased, rustling up his godson's hair. He was beaming from the inside that Harry was concerned about his well being. He always knew he was, but getting this sort of approval meant the world to him and made things much easier.

Sirius swung his arm around Harry's shoulders and returned to the group with a much happier demeanor. The boys picked up their brooms to return to their make-shift quidditch pitch, but Sirius lingered behind to set down his butter beer next to Hermione.

He couldn't help but walk with a sort of swagger when he went to set down his butter beer on the grass next to her. Their eyes met only briefly as he said, "I'm in love with you."

Hermione didn't look at him as she tried to act interested in the boys mounting their brooms, but she whispered tight lipped, "I loved you, first."

He took a few steps backwards, mouthing the words, "I'm going to kill, Charlie."

She shook her head and said, "He's fine."

Their game ended with Sirius, Harry and Ron beating Fred, Charlie and Lee, but not by much. Like good sportsmen, they shook hands and waved their good-byes for the afternoon. The men set off in different directions to Apparate, leaving Ron, Harry, Hermione and Sirius behind.

"You coming?" Ron asked Hermione once he and Harry were a few feet away.

"I'm going to stay here for a few minutes. Take a walk around. I didn't get a bird's eye view like you lot did," she said in a slightly bossy voice.

Sirius was playing off a good stretch as he added, "I'm just going to stay behind and make sure she gets home safely. You two go ahead."

Without another word, Harry smiled to Sirius and gave a quick glance to his best friend standing at his side. He ushered Ron to leave them be and they both Apparated as they walked towards the front gate of the park.

With the sound of two definite "pops", Sirius quickly grabbed Hermione's hand and interlaced their fingers together, like he'd been aching to all afternoon. "Gods, that was hard to do!" he expressed, kissing her hard and using his other hand to hold her neck. "All of that, terribly difficult," he breathed releasing her.

"What? Playing quidditch? I have to say you're a bit rusty with your skills-" she teased, but was swiftly cut off.

He pulled away abruptly, "No, seeing you touch Charlie. Trying to pretend nothing was between us. It was hard before, but this time, Gods, this time I wanted to tear his head off!" Sirius tried to chuckle, but she saw a tinge of the mad man from his wanted posters twinkle back at her.

A muggle Frisbee landed a few feet away from them, where an attractive red head ran over to retrieve it, glancing up at the couple that stood close with locked hands. She smiled politely at first and then stopped once she recognized the man.

"Oh Merlin, Sirius Black! So, sorry, so sorry!" the girl had to have been a few years older than Hermione, her feet bouncing from one to the other, ushering her friend to run over. "Can I please have your autograph?" She held out her Frisbee to him, biting her lip and obviously trying to bat her eyes more than what would deem necessary.

Sirius reluctantly released his hold on Hermione and took the plastic disc she offered him to sign, "What is this?"

"It's a-"

"It's a Frisbee!" the girl was quick to talk over Hermione, showing her no deference. "You toss it in the air and it glides. I could show you how to play!"

"No, that's fine, thanks," Sirius said, trying not to offer any more of his time with the bouncing girl who was soon joined by her equally attractive blonde friend that squealed at the very sight of him.

"You can use my wand!" the blonde chirped up, grasping her friend's hand in excitement.

"No, I've got my own, thank you," Sirius said again, holding the object awkwardly, and used the tip of his wand to scroll his name across the top of it. Hermione slid her arms around his waist, ducking her head away so as not to let the girls see her rolling her eyes.

"Thank you, Mr. Black. We come here often, so if ever you want to learn how to play, just find us!" they chirped as they took their leave.

"Right, thanks!" he called out, sliding his hands over Hermione's arms that gripped him tightly. "We can never come to this park again, you hear me?"

Hermione grinned, "You live like a hermit, and so whenever you leave the house, this is what will happen."

With a smile and a chaste kiss, he pushed them to walk together toward the path that led to the perimeter of the park. Sirius dropped his arms to take her hand as they walked at a slow pace enjoying the company and the closeness. "Being a hermit has its perks. Then again, so does that tropical island I talked about all those years ago."

"The one where no one would know us and we could live out our days together in solitude?" she reminisced. Though he said it years ago, it was only a few weeks for her. She remembered it was to be their hiding spot, should Sirius remain the Secret Keeper for the Potters. Thinking back, she ached just a little bit that she had given Sirius the idea of changing it to Peter by just mentioning it. She had created her own "butterfly effect".

"The very same," he cooed, lifting their joined hands to kiss hers. "It's still there."

"Have you been?"

He nodded and ducked his head, watching the path before them as their feet walked in unison, "I went there with Buckbeak, after you freed me." His voice was somber as he spoke, feeling the hinting pain of his solitude. "Laid on the beach, writing letters to Harry, thinking of you and what was to become of me," he gave her a side glance, peeking beneath black locks of curtains, "I could take you there, if you like."

She smiled, biting her lip, "Like for a vacation?"

"If you'd like," he said, squeezing her hand. "So, what did Charlie want? I guess I should give him a fair chance to explain himself, before I feed him to his dragons."

Hermione smiled at the hint of jealousy in Sirius's voice. It made her feel wanted and gave her the confidence that he did, indeed, want her to stay with him. "He asked me out for dinner, tonight. Told him thanks, but I was already seeing someone and just left it at that. I had to be nice; the man practically pushed himself on me at my birthday party."

"He did?" Sirius asked, intrigued to hear this bit of new news. His grip on her hand tightened.

"He cornered me in the study and the backdoor was my only escape. I was relieved to see you were out there, because I knew you'd save me from him if I asked," she squeezed his bicep with her free hand, leaning in to kiss his shoulder. "What did Harry want?"

Sirius grinned and let out a light chuckle, "Only the best news I could have heard at just the right time, I guess."

Hermione glanced over at him as they walked in step, admiring his profile as he looked ahead just when there were passing into the wooded part of their walking path. The trees hung like canopies overhead, allowing birdwatchers and slow strolling couples to enjoy the shade.

"He gave me permission to ask you out," he chuckled, leading them to a bench.

Hermione's breath caught, "What?"

Her surprised sound reminded him of when she was younger and how many times she used to hold up a good side of an argument with him sometime over a meal. He continued with telling her how the subject was approached with Harry, gauging her surprised reaction with how to continue on.

He pulled his pretty brunette in closer, falling in to step with her. "Yes, said he'd caught you watching me for awhile, now. Thought it was a good idea for me to test the waters, per say. Have you, Granger? Have you been watching me for awhile? Since before you went back?"

Showing her age, Hermione blushed and felt her cheeks warming. She tried to focus on another wizard family walking along the path in a different direction, holding what looked like a Weasley joke product from the shop. "I've watched you since I was fifteen, Sirius. I've watched you locked behind two different kinds of prisons, wishing to be on the outside."

"You are my angel, love," he confirmed, pulling her in close. "Just, now we've got to slowly ease into this, and not show that we've been biblically introduced so long ago.'

"Well then, let's go back home and pretend it's our first date," she cooed playfully, laying her head on his shoulder. "I don't normally put out on the first date, but for you I'll make an exception."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

They apparated to the front door of number twelve Grimmauld Place like a couple of teenagers: holding hands, quiet whispers and general anxiousness. They practically fell through the front door and as Hermione clung to Sirius's arm tightly, she giggled eagerly to get inside. Once behind the security of their house, Sirius called out for Remus. When nothing was returned, a sly sinister grin spread across his lips like an insane genius with brilliant plans.

"He's not home," he growled, nipping against the exposed skin of her neck. He trailed kisses along her cheek, running rough fingers around her ear. "We can be as loud as we want."

Hermione smiled back, her eyes alight with hungered desire. She allowed him to lead her up the stairs, stopping every few steps to taste his deliciously silky lips. A few more steps and they were on their landing, inching their way to the heavy oak door that still had "Sirius" engraved on a metal plate.

The weight of his back against the entry way flung it open, pulling her inside with desperate haste. He cupped her chin and reached for her neck, urging her to share in his passion with little convincing. He needed her like daylight needed the sun, like fish needed the ocean and all because she decided to break the rules and make him a better man. He was eternally grateful.

Every once in awhile, Hermione would see at flicker of the younger man within whenever he'd wink or curve his lips to the side of his mouth in a slight smirk. His outer shell was so much more defined, but he still kept up the same habits. He had the same face, the same breath, the same smell, the same eyes and the same burning touch on her naked flesh. He held her better than he used to, stronger now than before, for now he treasured her. His arms kept her closer, his hands were far more delicate with their touch and he kissed her while whispering her name. There was no doubt that he loved her all those years ago, for now as he pulled open her shirt to trail kisses down her collarbone and over the lift of her breasts just confirmed his deepest desires.

Her skin was cool where he'd left kisses, sending a thrilling sensation through her body that could only be compared to enjoying your first bubble bath after a heavy rain. He soothed her to the core, tasting her every curve with his lips and tongue, whispering dirty thoughts and telling her she was his own shining star in his midnight sky. He enchanted her, enticed her and formally invited her to lay with him.

He managed to shed nearly all of their clothing and as he pressed her down against the soft down comforter, his fingers lingered over the thin straps of her panties. His eyes devoured her, saving the peeling of her last bit of fabric for last, like he were unwrapping a special present. He ran a hand over her thigh, feeling the soft skin under his touch, savoring her scent mingling with his.

"I still think you're only a figment of my overactive imagination, love," he whispered against her ear, suckling a lobe.

"I'm here, because you want me to be," she said quietly, humming her approval with how his lips felt against her skin. He sent a slow euphoric surge of excitement down her body.

Her bare skin touched his, now naked together flesh to flesh and sex to sex. Not fitting in just yet, he laid against her, kissing the inside of her wrist, the crook of her elbow, the curve of her shoulder and under her chin.

"Merlin help me, I never want to let you go," he confirmed, kissing her lips for a longer time. "I'm going to be greedy."

She rolled him over on his back. Her leg slid between his, allowing the sheets to tangle around them. She gazed down at the man before her with handsome chiseled features of his aristocratic pureblood birthright. His skin was tan and taut over firm muscles defining the life he'd already lived. She leaned in, leaving soft kisses along the barcode tattoo on his neck, taking in his musky aura that intoxicated her very senses, believing that their coupling corrupted the old fashioned Ministry laws.

The sheets fell around their frame as they became one. The bed creaked its age, but with an approving rhythmic sound. Hermione sighed her pleasure aloud, her eyes falling shut and muffling her face against his neck as he bucked his hips to meet her. His hands gripped her rear firmly, forcing himself to plunge even deeper into her. Over and over they met their peak before settling down just before they put themselves over. The sound of the heated lovers' skin sliding together reverberated off the walls around them, sinking them deeper into their erotic aura.

She whispered for him to go deeper, harder and faster and like a slave to his lover, he obliged and rolled her over so she was on the bottom of his rather brutal pounding. Her hands pulled at his wavy black mane, arching her back so he'd bite the tips of her erect nipples as her nerves tingled deliciously. She moaned and purred, he grunted and nipped.

Finally, he took no more mercy on her and leaned down to whisper his Russian spell into her ear, leaving her in pleasure. Cradling her body, he came hard into her, his heart beating fast against hers. He kissed her temple, trying to sooth her as he quietly thanked her for allowing him such pleasure. His deed felt naughty and selfish, like he was taking advantage of her. But, it was she who begged him not to stop and was curling her fingers around the tips of his hair and leaving breathless kisses against his ear.

She smiled blindly and whispered, "Yes, you should never stop doing that."

He chuckled deeply, "Whatever you say, my love." He continued to leave kisses alongside her temple as she murmured her satisfaction.

A few moments passed and Hermione's fingers ceased their caressing of his arm to dwell on a thought. Probably something she had no business asking, but giving the state of things, she had a right to ask. "Sirius, I was wondering...about your activities."

"Legal or illegal?"

"I'm assuming legal, for the most part. But, I can't help but wonder what you did...before, I came back."

"Meaning?"

She swallowed, almost embarrassed to follow through, but managed, "Meaning...this."

He sighed, having allowed the pieces to click for a few seconds, "This."

"I know you haven't gone without for fifteen years."

He rolled over onto his back, freeing her of his physical restraints and let out an overdramatic sigh. A slight smirk lifted the corners of his mouth, "Absolutely. I've waited this entire time."

"I don't believe you. No one is that strong, most especially you!" she teased, rolling onto her side to rest her head on her wrist. "You have to tell me who." Sirius shook his head and could only smile. "When did you have time?"

He cleared his throat and reached for his wand that lay on the floor by his pants. He called for his pocket watch to check the time, laying it gently on his nightstand table. He glanced over to her, admiring the way her brown waves fell over her porcelain skin as she smiled to him with lips of a goddess...he was obviously stalling. How he loved the way she made him feel: youthful, passionate and worthy. Only now he didn't feel right keeping any secrets from her, for he promised himself he would deny her nothing. Still, she waited eagerly to hear what he had to say, even going so far as to gliding her fingers over his chest in order to coax it out of him faster.

"Sirius, please tell me. I won't be mad, honest," she pled, biting her lip and putting on the charm. She truly was dying to know, no matter how she was going to feel about it. Still morbidly conflicted, she had no right to be angry for his actions.

He raised a finger to touch her cheek and then looked up at the ceiling, "Well..."

"You start with a 'well', this cannot be good."

"Not many love, so calm down."

"Go on."

He closed his eyes to think carefully, almost wishing he'd cast a memory charm on her in order for her to forget what she'd asked, "Do you know the bar mistress at the Three Broomsticks?"

Her mouth opened, almost scandalized, "Madam Rosmerta?"

He chuckled again, "Yes, that would be her."

"When? How? You were still in hiding..."

"She has a thing for bad boys. Always kind of had a crush on her when I was younger. Gave me my first drink, she did."

"Well," she said raising her eyebrows and looking away at the indents of her pillow for lack of something more interesting to focus on, "Ron always fancied her."

"Yes, let's talk about you and Ron shall we?" he suggested, hoping to see her squirm.

"No, no, unfair! That was before you, so I have no dark secrets in my closet," she said, wagging a finger at him and rolling onto her stomach and resting her chin on her hands.

He couldn't help but roll onto his side to leave a kiss on her bare pale shoulder, silently making up for whatever damage he may have caused. Still, he couldn't help but stir her cauldron, "Didn't you date that quidditch player for a bit? The big gorilla-looking one from the Bulgarian team?"

"We're not talking about me, here. I'm curious about you, so stop turning it around. You know all my dirty laundry, if you want to call it that. I think the most scandalous liaison I've ever had is you."

"Still," he added, while moving her hair off her back so as to run his fingers over her skin, "you went from quidditch player, to Ron...to me. You have quite the eclectic taste, love."

"Stop turning it around on me, you're not off the hook yet. And your seductive moves aren't going to get you out of this conversation."

His gentle touching stopped abruptly and he fell dramatically back onto his side, "Then there was Emmeline Vance, but she'd wanted me for awhile, and Hestia Jones," he concluded with a silent nod.

"Emmeline? But, isn't she older-?"

"Yes, my age," he chuckled. "You forget how old I really should be."

She grinned to herself, thinking back on the truth of it. He was a generation ahead of her, but none of that mattered to her. Hermione wanted Sirius anyway she could have him.

"Now, about your quidditch player..." he chimed in, watching her eyes close and pretend to drift off.

"You know, on second thought, let's drop the subject," she said coy. She didn't need reliving any other men when she had his undivided attention.


	5. The Outing

_A note from Serade Black: Yes, this has got to be the quickest updated from one chapter to the next. I'm trying to pump them out and get them Beta'd. Thank you to those that reviewed the last few chapters. They do keep me going. It's refreshing to know that people are still reading the story! Enjoy ~ SB_

Ch. 5

"The Outing"

"Hermione, we have to leave in ten minutes! I know you want to make a scene, but being late to a wedding is not the way to do it. Especially when it's the Lovegood family," Sirius said, coming out of his bedroom and draping his light grey tie loosely around his neck. He was fastening his cuff links onto his maroon colored shirt when Hermione stepped out of her bedroom (that only kept her wardrobe). He let out a rather loud wolf whistle at the sight of her.

She was putting earrings on when she walked his way wearing an elegant halter knees-length grey dress to match the color of his tie. She had peep-toe heels and modest pearl jewelry to accent it. Her hair was swept up on the sides, while the ends were delicately curled to fall romantically down her back.

"I don't want to make a scene, Sirius. You should know that about me, by now," she chided, stepping past him and into his room where she went to her hand bag that sat on his dresser.

"You look positively radiant, sweetheart," he said coming alongside of her to look in the mirror to begin his tie. After glancing a little too long at the way her dress exposed her creamy soft shoulders, he turned to her with both ends of his tie extended defeated. She immediately stopped what she was doing to perfect a knot for him. "Are you ready for this?" he asked with a low crooning voice.

"It's just a wedding. Lots of friends go to weddings together," she said with a sing song voice, trying to justify their appearance together. She was pretending not to think of it as their first official outing to everyone after two weeks "courting", as Sirius referred to it as.

"Yes, but we're matching, love. Friends attending weddings together do not normally match their ties to their date's dress. We're going to stroll in there, not late, holding hands and letting others begin their copious gossip." Sirius spoke to her, but she appeared to be too concentrated on perfecting his tie. He gagged when she pulled a little too tight. "I, however, do not care what anyone says."

"That'll do," she said, tilting her head as she appraised her tie knotting skills. "I don't care, either," she denied, smoothing his tie for the fourth time.

"I think its good, love." She wanted him to look perfect, but she didn't need to try very hard. He was already a sight. His stressed and prematurely lined appearance warmed him to a new health, now that he was rested and in love. He secretly cherished the way she doted on him, making any and every excuse to touch him. Sirius was a whore for her soft touches.

"I was a little bit worried with Molly, but I think Remus smoothed it out already," she added, turning to face the mirror and adjusting her dress. "Also, you have to promise me something."

"Sweetheart, I'll promise you the world," he said, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. He pressed his lips against the pale exposed spot on her neck that was always a sure thing to make her swoon.

She was keen on his tricks and turned around on the spot, pressing herself against him and stopping him from furthering his affections. With a sweet coy smile, she looked up, "You have to promise me you'll demonstrate your fancy dance moves out there with me. If you don't dance with me at that wedding, leaving me to sit at a table with Ron's Aunt Muriel-"

"Muriel is still alive? Merlin's Beard, she was at weddings when I was a kid. That bird refuses to die!"

Hermione pursed her lips, annoyed that he'd changed the subject, "I said if you don't dance with me, I will make Remus tell everyone about your secret Sunday nights."

He smiled and kissed her forehead, "Of course I'll dance with you. I could sing to you as well-"

"That won't be necessary. I've heard you sing after several shots of Fire whisky before. You and James thought you could carry a tune, but I hate to inform you that your mother howled better than you did."

The location of the wedding was well camouflaged to unsuspecting muggles. It was in a muggle school's gymnasium that they hired for the day, under the reservations that it was for a family reunion. Walking into the school yard, it was quaint, not like wizarding schools that were much more elaborate for what they contained; this school was more modern than the norm.

The signs along the pathway announced a reunion, but at a second glance to magical eyes, it changed to "Lovegood/Scamander Wedding" in flashing letters and then quick it changed to a different sort of writing, using pictures to depict directions. The couple walked along the open hallways and temporary buildings where finally they knew they were going in the right direction by the sounds erupting from a stand alone building just a little further. Standing at the doorway, like two regal comedic guards holding oddly shaped staffs, were two men wearing canary yellow robes.

"What a terrible color to be wearing," Sirius said under his breath as he reached into the pocket inside his robe. His free arm remained bent for Hermione to hold onto.

Hermione shushed him as they got closer to the wizards waiting to be greeted, "Luna and her father believe that wearing the color reflecting the sun is to wish bright beginnings."

"It's ghastly," he whispered as the usher bowed to them and accepted the invitation Sirius held out to check. "Hello!" Sirius pulled on the charm in one click.

The usher smiled to them both, accepting the invitation and seeing the name reflected on the outside. The young wizard looked up and smiled, obviously tickled to be handling them. "Ah, Miss Granger and Mr. Black, welcome. Come, I'll show you to your seats. I believe Harry Potter has already arrived."

Hermione took a deep breath, holding tightly to Sirius's arm, and followed the usher into the gymnasium. As they followed behind, Sirius lifted her hand to his lips.

The room had been completely transformed, displaying the colors of yellow and white everywhere. The roof had been opened and though it was overcast outside, the ceiling revealed a brilliant bright sun that you were able to look directly into. There were rows of white chairs shimmering with specks of yellow like they were bouncing off the sun's rays. Down the center aisle they walked upon a pale blue carpet, complete with slow moving clouds with each step.

To the rear of the room, there was a bar already open for guests to partake in fruity cocktails or champagne before the ceremony. White doves flew above their heads creating a romantic atmosphere, but some anxious guests that sat below the flying birds were disappointed that they didn't wear their hats. Several hoods on cloaks came up over fancy hair-dos.

Sirius walked down the aisle proud, his young witch clinging to his side like they were out in the middle of the ocean surrounded by hungry sharks. When they had reached Harry's row, along with Ginny and Ron, they were met with a warm smile and friendly green eyes from the scarred one. Sirius caught the slight nod from his godson once his date was acknowledged.

Hermione stepped inside the aisle first, smoothing out the bottom of her dress before sitting down next to Harry. Ginny sat next to him and beyond her was Ron, who was picking at his own robes for lack of something better to do. There was a sense of boredom about him, like he would have preferred to be anywhere, but there.

Before taking his own seat, he leaned down to Hermione, placing a finger to the side of her cheek, "Hermione, can I get you a drink?"

She looked up at him, trying to refrain from gazing too long, but still aware of the possible on-lookers surrounding them. She gave a slight nod and watched him leave, after he checked on her friends to her left.

Hermione folded her hands in her lap delicately, smoothing out the skirt of her dress over and over again. Her cheeks warmed, for in her peripheral vision, she could see Harry looking at her with a slight grin becoming wider and wider, the more she ignored him. She was absolutely elated that he was as pleased as he appeared and could do nothing to hide her blushing cheeks. She looked around everywhere, trying not to pay attention to the two sets of eyes on her that she actually cared about. The other sets of eyes that may or may not have noticed she just came in escorted by Sirius she paid no attention to.

"Well," Harry just let out, his smile so wide you'd think he could hold it no longer.

Hermione just licked her lips and shook her head, "I'm not talking about anything at the moment." She tried her hardest to hide her inner smile, for deep down, she was glowing.

Ginny chuckled and sat back in her seat, looking straight ahead, "I'll get it out of her later."

Hermione cleared her throat, not bothering to deny the gossip to her female friend and looked around to take in her surrounds. Immediately, she saw something coming her way and her instincts forced her to duck as a low flying dove nearly nicked them.

"They're trained, don't worry," Ginny said, leaning in past Harry, again. "Although, don't tell Aunt Muriel. It's too funny to watch her holding an open umbrella over her head. Fred and George convinced her to hold it upside down for extra assurance."

"What do you reckon Luna will be wearing?" Ron asked, surveying the bright garden decor with live butterflies the size of quaffles floating delicately nearby. "A sunflower dress that will have magic rays coming out her-"

"Ron, stop! Try to behave," Ginny chided. "She was so pleased to have all of us RSVP for her wedding. Try to show a little couth."

"Here you go, love," Sirius said, presenting her with a tall flute and a wink. He slid into the seat next to Hermione, toasting her and taking a sip from his own glass. He licked his lips, took a deep breath and looked around the room asking, "Alright, who's betting the girl will be wearing sparkling sunshine petals?"

"Sirius-" Hermione snapped, while both Ron and Harry chuckled under her breath like school boys as he was berated. She rolled her eyes, sometimes wondering if she really was dating an older man.

"You're next, mate," Ron chuckled, punching Harry in the arm.

"Still at least six more months to plan," Ginny carried on. "Mum is doing a lot of work and getting married after I finish my studies is still the best plan. I'll get with you later, Hermione, about the smaller details we still need to handle."

Hermione nodded, acknowledging her position as Maid-of-Honor. She looked about the room wildly, wondering how Harry and Ginny's wedding was going to look, compared to this elaborate show. The small details were the most important and doing what her two friends wanted was incredibly exciting. Her thoughts came to herself and with a slight glance to the handsome man next to her, who was currently looking straight up at the doves that circled overhead with a particular interest.

"Don't chase them," Hermione whispered as she leaned in, patting his leg.

Shaking himself out of it, he nodded, "Right."

The ceremony commenced with minimal surprises, however the men were half right in guessing Luna's gown would add some sort of strange normalcy to the event. Her dress was simple white, off the shoulder, but the train was comprised of long yellow fabric with real daisies fastened to it. As she walked the flowers' petals would fall in perfect step with her leaving a trail of her own.

Hermione sat on the edge of her seat with a tissue clutched in her hand as she watched the two repeat vows. Harry showed no expression as he held a quietly sobbing Ginny's hand, while Ron was still keeping a wary eye on a nearby butterfly that he swore had devoured an entire row of shrubbery.

Sirius sat back comfortably in his seat, his arm around the back of Hermione's chair, slowly drawing circles on her shoulder with his thumb. He smiled as the wedding two fumbled over their lines. His eyes traveled over a few guests that were captivated by the couple in the front, but managed to catch the eye of a few people who would quickly turn their head once he made contact with them. It was clear that they were curious about the former Azkaban resident. Even more so when he noticed a couple of women to his immediate right, probably about Tonks's age, grinning wildly when he caught them looking at him. He smiled back, moving a hand to Hermione's leg, patting her gently as she remained mesmerized by the couple and their unity.

His lingering smile fell into a smirk and then into a slight grimace. He wondered if she was imagining their future and where they were going to be in a few years. Did she imagine the two of them standing up there in front of all these guests, watching them the way she was watching them? He couldn't think about any of that, he just got her back. They were still adjusting.

Hermione shifted back in her seat, leaning against her wizard and resting her chin on his shoulder, watching the couple with approving eyes. Without a second thought, Sirius turned his head to kiss her forehead, allowing his lips to linger longer against her skin, before turning to watch the couple with her. He paid no attention to anyone should they be watching. He was happy.

As the guests were requested to mill about the room, partaking in refreshments before the dinner was served; the room was transformed into an indoor English garden, complete with small creek running through the hall. Larger than normal birds and pretty insects feasted on the flowers, making the guests feel like they were more than one with nature. The tables fluttered down from above, transfiguring from the flying doves overhead and covered in yellow and white striped table clothes with full settings. Guests were allowed to sit where they liked, and the normal crew joined at a table together, now with Remus and Tonks who snuck in the back during the ceremony. Molly and Arthur were a table away, along with more of their family and several Order members.

After dinner was served and the dancing commenced, Sirius squeezed Hermione's hand under the table. He excused himself for a few moments and went to walk off with Bill and Charlie.

The remaining guests at the table, and extras, made short conversations about other things: work, the Minister Shacklebolt, the latest bills passed, current muggle films and the latest tally on dark wizards caught still harboring magical artifacts that had been banned for several years now. Ron, on the other hand, had finally put two and two together, nearly two hours later and finally spoke up about the obvious in a not-so subtle manner.

Her ginger friend and ex-boyfriend leaned across the table, his unusually steaming drink in his hand nearly spilling over, he asked in a stage whisper, "Hermione, did you come here with Sirius?"

"Yes, I did. Its fine, Ronald," Hermione said while taking the last bite of her wedding cake that was served to her. It had speckled blueberry frosting.

"Just as friends, right?" he pressed, his volume getting louder and into normal conversation.

"No, not just as friends," she admitted. Though she once loved him and he still remained one of her best friends, she hated that he really was thick sometimes.

"What do you mean, not just as friends? You two are actually on a date together?"

She sighed, shaking her head and looking at him with sad pitiful eyes. She was exhausted with trying to explain herself to him.

"Harry, did you know this? Did you know that they were going to come to the wedding _together_?" Ron asked, looking for an ally.

"I'm not surprised. I see the way they look at each other."

"Why am I just noticing this, now?"

Ginny perked up, "Because you're blind. Haven't you noticed them talking and holding hands this entire time?"

"No! They were holding hands? That's...that's...Harry, how can you be okay with this?" Ron asked. His face was flushed and his drink was sloshing over onto the table cloth. "Hermione, he's like our-"

"No, he's not like our dad! You wouldn't understand Ron and I'm not asking you to. Let's just leave it alone," she said, seeing Sirius returning from wherever he disappeared to. Her face brightened at the sight of him.

Sirius approached the table a bit timidly, noticing the disgusted look on Ron's face. There was nothing that needed to be said; it was obvious by the look on Hermione's face that it was about them. He looked at Harry, then glance to Ron who seemed to have a problem with meeting his eyes, as if he were embarrassed by the situation for them.

Instead, he leaned in behind Hermione taking her hand, "It's time, love." He helped her out of her chair, and led her out towards the dance floor. With a glance over his shoulder, he couldn't help but catch Ron's seething glare.

He took her to the center, keeping her hand tight in his hold and parading her like she were the princess of the ball. He was very to have on his arm, like he were finally getting the redemption he deserved. Being locked away on wrongful charges forever tainted his name, but displaying his witch proudly next to him was a beacon of trust and fruition. Though never afraid to show his face in public, he was trying very hard to change his name from the racist pureblood reputation, into a new era.

She made his heart dance as he pulled her in close, placing a hand possessively on her waist and taking her other delicately into his palm. Though they were a generation apart to the outside world, she was exactly what he needed, because she had been what he wanted all along.

"I take it Ron isn't happy with us," Sirius asked quietly next to her ear. He was taking in her pleasant floral scent, closing his eyes just slightly as he allowed the music to lead him.

"Ron will be fine. I'm not worried about him," she said, her smile fading. All of a sudden she felt like more and more people were noticing the two of them swaying between their fellow dancers. How odd they must have looked to those that knew them, a surprise no less. The sound of Sirius's voice brought her back.

"But, he's worried. Why?"

"I think it's the age difference."

"No, it's not," he shook his head as he glanced beyond her towards Ron. With a slight tilt of his head, he was trying to read the young wizard sitting next to his godson. "He's jealous, that's all."

"Jealous? But, it was a mutual split," she advised, letting him spin her around on her toes in order to pull her in closer. The two seemed to be fading into their own world, where no one was allowed. Being with him truly made her feel complete.

"He lost you and now he sees you with me. Ron's a nice kid really and even though I'm partial, your dating him was not well suited in my opinion. I would have rather you hooked up with Harry-"

"That wouldn't be weird for you, or anything."

He nodded, "Maybe a little, as I probably would have tried to intervene in some way in your youth. Harry would have at least been a step up."

She smiled, shaking her head and resting her head against his chest. The fabric of his robes felt soft against her cheek. "Careful now, Ron is still one of my best friends."

Sirius chuckled, kissing the top of her head. His hand rested against the small of their back as she leaned against him, pressing just slightly. She was so light to spin around; it was good that he was able to teach her a few steps in his youth on those memorable Sunday nights at his cousin Andromeda's. The intimacy paid off.

"Although," she started again, lifting her face towards him to keep her comment private, "he does kiss like a lizard."

As he glanced down with a slight smirk to his young witch, admiring the way her eyes nearly twinkled under the low lighting, he couldn't help himself as he teased her with their taboo, "Care to learn from the master, young lady?"

"With arrogance like that, how can I say no?" she flirted, biting her lip as he sunk closer.

He was hesitant, but only for a second. He knew that their secret would be out in a matter of moments, for once he kissed her right there on the dance floor with all to see, the gossip would start. Maybe it was just his imagination that people were watching them closely, but perhaps it was just that sudden twinge of guilt that he was thirty-nine and she only twenty-two. He'd lived a dark life after meeting her and hers was only just beginning. At a ceremony celebrating unity, why now was he having doubts?

_Fuck it! _He thought to himself.

The rowdy bunch left the reception and emptied into a night of fast moving clouds and gusty winds. Their sunshine day had turned sour and it was a last minute decision to have everyone over to Grimmauld Place for some after party spirits. Ginny was only in town for a few short days away from University, so the girls wanted to make the most out of wedding planning.

In the large kitchen with the long wooden table in the center, Hermione and Ginny stood in the farthest corner, making plans and doing dishes left over from left over desserts. Remus, Sirius, Harry, Ron, Fred, George and Charlie sat around the long table discussing the latest front page noteworthy news of the Chudley Cannons. Between severe heated verbal battles of bad plays and poor showmanship, Hermione glanced over her shoulder to see the family of gingers and friends. She curled her toes as her eyes immediately fell on her ruggedly handsome wizard with the bark-like laugh as he pushed off the table and balanced on two of his chair legs.

Noticing that she no longer held Hermione's attention, she leaned in as she sipped from her wine glass, "So, you two are really doing it, huh?"

Hermione quickly snapped her head to her friend while slightly blushing, "Ginny!"

It was the first time the witch was able to speak to her about it without anyone listening in. Ginny shrugged her shoulders and licked her lips nonchalantly, "What? I was only referring to the fact that you two showed everyone its legit. Harry had talked about it - wanting Sirius to really talk to you. But, if you're blushing because the real reason is that you two are already doing it, than we need to cut to the chase and be honest with me."

Hermione smirked and turn around, ignoring her friend. She picked up the enchanted scrubber and began working on the small plates with left over pie bits on them herself. The water splashed a little on the counter and she was quick to pick up a towel to dry the area off for lack of something busier to do. She avoided Ginny's eyes as the banter went on behind them at the table none the wiser.

"You are! Hermione, you held out on me?" Ginny pried, "I'm hurt."

Finally, she threw down the towel defeated, "Ginny, I wish I could tell you everything, but Sirius and I...we're..."

"You know Ron is boiling, right? It's killing him, because he really likes, Sirius. If you just tell me you two are friends with perks, than I don't think I would be able to respect him, anymore. You, sure, go Hermione! But, him, eh, I could see he was a player back in his day." Ginny glanced over to the table and tilted her head to give Sirius a once over. She let out a big sigh and shook her head, "I can see it."

Hermione shook her head, looking down at the soapy water in the sink. "No, it's not like that. We're...we're in love."

Like a light was slowly turning on within Ginny, her smile widened and her eyes brightened. Soon, she was beaming, "Perfect. Harry and I are so happy for you. Sad that you and Ron didn't end up, I'll admit I am partial, but you are the thing Sirius needs. He's just," she glanced towards the men at the table again, "What are you doing?"

"Shut up, Ginny! We're settling a bet!" Charlie spat, his face already turning a stressed crimson as he gripped the table for extra support. He and Sirius had their hands locked tight, their elbows flat on the wooden table and they were arm wrestling with every ounce of strength they could muster. The men around them were calling jeers and insults, throwing down a galleon or two, gambling on who would win.

"That's barbaric!" Hermione said, turning around and watching the two men acting like animals, cursing and yelling at each other unnecessarily. One minute they were on about quidditch and the next they were acting like children.

"Winner takes you," Fred teased, crossing his arms and leaning in to see how close Sirius was to getting Charlie's hand down flat on the table. He made an over dramatic reference to Sirius's bulging bicep stressing underneath his maroon shirt.

When Hermione chirped up an immediate protest, the surrounding company let out an applause of laughter. When Sirius slammed Charlie's hand down, winning the wager, he barked a heated laugh and knocked back his glass of Fire whisky that was handed to him by Fred, collecting his bet from George.

Sirius looked over to Hermione and slapped his hands on his lap, "You're safe love."

Hermione twisted her mouth into a smirk and shook her head, rolling her eyes unamused. She turned her back on the company, offering Ginny a slight wink and resumed cleaning the remaining plates.

A chair screeched loudly against the hard floor, indicating an immediate departure. The group looked over down by the end and Ron had abruptly stood up and stormed out of the kitchen, kicking the door open. The room fell silent and Sirius just shrugged, shaking his head.

Leaving her wand on the counter, Hermione quickly followed him out, catching the door in mid swing. She pressed on through to see the backside of her ex-boyfriend just reaching the front door. Hearing company following him, he spun around and ran a nervous hand through his hair, still obviously not allowing the news settle very well in him. He looked haggard.

"Ron, wait," she started, walking up to him and extending a hand to rest on his arm. She hated seeing him in the state he was in.

At first contact, he swung around and glared at her with fierce daggers, but he refrained from saying what he was thinking. He finally settled on, "I just can't grasp it, Hermione."

She nodded slowly, "I know. I'm not asking you to accept it right away-"

"Or at all!"

"Ron, please. Let's be adults about this."

"It's Sirius, Hermione! He's like our-" Ron started to compare him, but was swiftly cut off with a stern female voice ringing in.

"He is not, Ronald. Stop saying that. You know he was never that sort. Harry wanted him that way, yes, and he needs Harry like that, yes, but he was never that to us. Sirius was always our friend, not a guardian."

"But, it's Sirius! I just can't get...the two of you...if I picture it, I just get all wonky," Ron was stuttering over his own words, trying desperately to piece them together to try and make sense.

With sad eyes, Hermione looked to her friend, wishing she could just make him think straight. Seeing him frazzled and unsettled hurt her, for she knew the pain caused was her fault. Never did she want this to come between what she most valued - friendship. It was clear with the way Ron continued to pace with his fingers in his hair, trying to sort out the puzzle floating around in his head.

"I understand that this might be hard, but we just...we just...it's complicated right now."

"Do you love him?" Ron asked, stopping in mid pace to ask the million galleon question.

She swallowed all her doubt and nodded just slightly, her voice as quiet as a mouse, "Yes."

"This is absolutely mad! I just can't...we were together not a few months ago and all of a sudden-"

"It wasn't all of sudden, Ron. We just weren't working, were we? We tried so many times," she felt like she was fighting a losing battle. At least now, her patience with him had helped him stop pacing and he had resorted to glaring at the carpet between them.

"Were you seeing him when we-"

"No! Absolutely, not. We are still new," she lied, her eyes falling to the same spot on the rug between them.

"And yet, you love him, so quickly?"

"I'm pretty sure that I'm falling in love with him."

A few moments went by and nothing more was said between the two of them. Their silence was broken by the sound of creaking hinges from the kitchen door and slow booted footsteps coming down the hallway towards them.

Ron looked up at Sirius who had stopped before entering the foyer the younger ones shared and met his eyes. Without a word, he bowed his head and turned where he stood to leave through the front door. Hermione continued to stare at the spot her best friend previously stood, willing him to come back through the door and welcome them with open arms, but that was too much to ask at the present time. Her thoughts whirled around her head like a cyclone, wishing that the anger and hurt would whisk itself away with the wind.

"He'll come around," Sirius said quietly. His voice carried through the foyer as if he was an all-knowing God. He walked up behind her and gently placed his hands on her shoulders to soothe her.

"I've hurt him."

"No, I think it's me he's lost trust in."

Hermione felt her eyes beginning to water over the sinking guilty feeling that she'd caused Ron any kind of pain. He appeared genuinely hurt and conflicted. She turned around in his arms, nudging him to hold her close. "Is it wrong that I want to be selfish and not care what anyone thinks? I second guess myself all the time for going back; I know I broke the rules, but if I didn't...I would have never known what I was missing out on."

Sirius embraced Hermione the way she wanted, resting his chin on top of her head. She fit perfectly within him, like they were two puzzle pieces meeting their connecting match. He felt inner peace when she leaned against him, for he desperately wanted to be her rock and make up for all his absences in others' lives. She represented that redemption, he thought again.

"Wanting you was all I knew. I waited for so long. I counted the moments until your birthday, looked for signs, anything...but, I knew no different," he spoke into the air, more for himself than for her.

"I'm so sorry for what you went through-"

"Shh," he hushed, raising her chin with his forefinger. "I told you, every minute was worth the wait. But, I can't tell you how many times I came close to giving in. There were so many times I just wanted to say, 'fuck it' and grab you, resulting in serious collateral damage, or just give up all together. I was so worried that you were going to come home and...and not want me as I am now."

Hermione's brow furrowed with sympathy over the beautiful man whose heart bled as he spoke. Such a gentle nature, a sincere thought for her always on his tongue, and she was more enamored with him than when she left him standing in the doorway of his old house. The memory of him riding off on his motorbike was still fresh in her mind.

"You were younger, but I always had you, this you," she pointed to his chest, "in mind. I knew you were still like that, only it came out in spurts as you got older. I knew, because I'd seen it. When we were together, I always thought of the you that was most familiar to my eyes. The older Sirius, the godfather Sirius, the mourning friend Sirius, and the Sirius that danced with me on my birthday that kept his thoughts to himself. You knew your time was coming.

The feelings I had for you before I left were already planted, because of the way you looked at me. I know now, it was because of your past with me. Believe me when I tell you that I love you. I loved you back then and I love you now, because of the life you have led. I'm not going anywhere. I'm sticking around this time and unless you've got alternative plans...I'm staying for good, right here."

Her words fell on enchanted ears as he admired the way her champagne colored lips moved. Like a poet in love with his muse, he was captivated with the way she recited lines of devotion to him. It pained him now to think back on those dark nights when he never thought he'd hear them. He felt like he waited a lifetime for the woman of his dreams to grow up and come back to him. He cherished the way her body felt against him, how she was there willingly and without force. It felt so good and yet he still felt tortured to have missed out on her for so long.

"I don't want to miss my chance with you, Hermione," he whispered, pressing his lips against hers.

Her hands slid around his neck, rubbing a thumb over his barcode and adding, "Then, never let me go."

"I don't intend to, love".


	6. Building a New Foundation

_A note from Serade Black: As always, thank you to those that take the time to review. I'm a sucker for reviews and though I don't always answer them, I am reading them. For those that have asked me to get a beta or a new beta, thanks, but I'm good. I have someone I've worked with for a long time and unfortunately, I'm an impatient person when it comes to Fan Fiction. I send it, she sends it and things get overlooked. We're human. I'm not going for the big win of getting published, I'm just posting this all for fun, because of my passion for Sirius and Hermione. That pretty much sums it up. For those that have sent me thank yous and best eager wishes to continue, you make me smile. I cannot tell you how many nights I've typed on my lap top while my husband sleeps beside me and my fingers just go. Someone inspired me to tell stories and I'm tickled if I've done the same for others. The story itself might be moving slow, but know that I'm working it out on my end for the big drop. I'm still outlining small details and that is what is taking the longest (along with real life getting in the way - damn responsibilities). For now, enjoy!_

_~SB_

Ch. 6 - "Building a new Foundation"

The leaves had all but fallen off nearly every tree in the neighborhood. Fall was coming to a close and winter was knocking on the door of number twelve Grimmauld Place. Soon would be the obligatory family gatherings and the enchanting decorations covering popular places in London. The muggles had an unhealthy obsession for all things small and twinkling.

A quiet dinner was had in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. Tonks sat alongside of Remus, her assistance in the kitchen was not necessary, or so Hermione insisted that it wasn't. Hermione prepared a gorgeous turkey roasted with vegetables and potatoes and was just pouring the wine all around, leaving the aged bottle to Sirius's side.

"So, Sirius, I found something that I believe you'd be well suited for," Hermione began as she speared a carrot. "My department is looking for a liaison for those that came out of the Veil. It would be sort of an Ambassador role to represent those readjusting into society."

"Go on," he said encouraging her to continue.

"Well, I've taken to the paperwork aspect of all the research and I was thinking that things would be better represented if there was someone to speak on their behalf. I created the position and Minister Kingsley agreed to it. Told me that I should bring it up to you first, before posting it to the rest."

Sirius chuckled as he shook his head; his shoulder length hair falling into his sightline. He pushed around the greens on his plate and coupled them with a chunk of meat on his fork. "I never thought I would be one to work for the Ministry of Magic."

"That would be great, Padfoot," Remus supported, sipping from his glass. "Just think, you can tell the Ministry how you really feel and no one can debate it. You'd have the complete run, mate."

"Are you my superior?" Sirius baited, leaning on his elbow and winking to Hermione.

She gave him a friendly smirk and said, "No, her name is Isa McLure. I thought that if I took the position and you took the position, then it would be too much a conflict of interest."

The arrogant wizard with the black wavy locks shrugged his shoulders, not amused. He pursed his lips and was clearly thinking it over and weighing his options.

"It wouldn't be a particularly demanding job," Hermione continued, "for you only have to make appearances when there are queries about how some are adjusting and when to speak on their behalf. You would almost be able to make your own hours."

"That's not what he's worried about, Hermione," Remus added, tuning into Sirius's conflict. He had known his friend for far too long to not be able to read him as clearly as the front page of the Daily Prophet. "It's the fact that it's _at _the Ministry of Magic."

"Spot on, friend," Sirius nodded, amused that Remus had seen through him.

"I understand, and I won't be hurt if you didn't take it, honestly. I just wanted to try and persuade you into it, before the other candidates were considered. We've been missing quite a few lately. Some of our specimens haven't been checking in on a regular basis"

"Sweetheart, please tell your department not to call them specimens, its rude," he chuckled, tilting his head when her eyes widened with his mocking. "No wonder they're not checking in."

She shook her head, ignoring his comment, "I feel that some are not adjusting to the sudden change as well as others-"

"Or perhaps," Sirius interrupted, "they just don't wish to be found." His face soured at the idea that his _kind _was being studied so closely. "That was a very traumatic experience and it's sad to say that those that may have remained in there for a good amount of time may just wish not to be found again. There was no conversing amongst ourselves. We could barely see our hands in front of our face. Perhaps people chose to go beyond and then, all of a sudden, were plucked from their existence, forced to adjust to their returned life."

"What are you saying, Sirius?" Tonks finally spoke up, wondering if there was a hidden reason why the "charges" of the Ministry were not routinely checking in with their updates after returning. The study wasn't being flushed out as much as they had hoped and she knew that Hermione was struggling to make sense of it.

"I'm just saying it as clearly as I can imagine: perhaps some don't wish to be found. Perhaps there were some instances," Sirius rested his fork alongside his plate and ran a finger on the backside of Hermione's hand, "where people didn't have such special things to discover. Maybe they had nothing to lose and made that choice."

"A choice to go into the Veil? Like suicide?" Hermione asked as meek as a small child, as if the word itself was taboo.

Without bothering to shield her from the harsh reality, Sirius said hoarsely, "Something like that."

No one spoke as the mood changed to a more somber tone. Just the sound of light clinking and scrapes of cutlery on the plates filled the silence. Without a word, Sirius reached under the table and gently squeezed Hermione's thigh. They both shared a glance, promising that their story was an exception to everything he had said.

The holidays together were a particularly warm time. Grimmauld Place was full of life and energy. The large house was decorated from floor to floor, from portrait to chandelier. Tiny vines of holly were draped over each doorway, and mistletoe guarded each new room, insisting that its occupants share in the festivities. At least three different Christmas trees twinkled brightly: one in front of the window in the sitting room (that no one could see in), one in the small corner of the kitchen (as it seemed to be necessary for Headquarter meetings), and a rather hypnotic one with dark maroon and blue lights that seemed to slowly change for the mood sitting in the corner of Sirius's bedroom.

The extended friends and family came over for Christmas Eve to pass out adult presents as the youngest of the Weasley clan played quietly in the foyer. Father Christmas was going to be joining them at the Burrow, so it was planned that the early morning would be welcomed with a big breakfast. However, at the rate Ron, Sirius and Harry were going, Bloody Marys would be specially served.

Hermione returned from the kitchen with a tray of glasses for champagne hoping to toast the evening, but it seemed that some of the younger men were beyond drinking something that didn't set your tongue on fire after taking a shot.

With a shake of her head she set the tray down on a nearby table, after Sirius obliged her by taking a crystal stem of the bubbling spirit. He gave her a gentlemanly nod and toasted his glass with hers as they took the first sip together.

"At least you still have your wits about you, for the time being," she said glancing around the room and taking in the company backlit by various candles and whirling decorations.

"I haven't lost them, yet," he charmed.

His eyes were secretly devouring her with his heightened senses and whispered inebriated state. Taking mental picture after mental picture, he would never be able to capture the grace she held for him. As they stood close, he couldn't help himself not to trace his fingers along her jaw, forcing her to glance his way. She gave him a half smile and sipped her flute.

"So, I was thinking," he began, "with Harry and Ginny getting married, it won't be long until Remus and Tonks are next."

Her eyes settled on Remus, who was smiling pleasantly as he listened intently to Arthur telling a story. "I suppose you're right."

"I was thinking of giving them Grimmauld Place," he finished, sipping his champagne and licking the sweet dry taste from his lips. His eyes dropped down to admire the lift of her bosom beneath the red dress she wore.

"Is it yours to give?" she wondered.

"Yes, Harry turned everything back over to me when I came back. So, I own this house...again. I know Harry hasn't any issues getting into a new place, but thought it would be appropriate for Remus and Tonks to start their life here together."

"Well, there is plenty of room, no doubt about that. They can have their pick of the rooms and if they have children, they would have built in babysitters-"

"I meant, without us," he finished for her. He watched her features carefully, waiting for a sense of comprehension.

Hermione appeared slightly perplexed, but soon caught on, "But, where would we...you mean together?" He raised an eyebrow nervously, hoping she'd accept. "You want me to move in with you somewhere else? Just us?"

"Well, we are already living together, so why not just us someplace else?"

In seconds Hermione's drink was on the mantle and she was throwing her arms around his neck, kissing his rough cheek, "Yes, yes, yes, when?"

"I suppose we need to go and find a place, first."

"We could move to the country, or into the center of London, or...your old house! What about your old house? The one you used to have, number twenty-four?" Her voice, though quiet and private with him and undetected from eavesdroppers, was excited and hopeful.

"I...still have it. It's a bit of a wreck, love. Haven't been in it for nine years. It needs work," he hesitated, stalling and hoping she would want somewhere new, somewhere more her.

"No, I want that house. I loved that house and we can work on it together. Oh, Sirius, this is the best Christmas present ever," she said as she held onto him. She'd never felt so comfortable in her place.

"Right, now what's going on over there?" George said above the crowd. It seemed that further celebration was happening beyond their party of passing around the Fire Whiskey. All eyes turned towards the May-December couple who were standing wrapped as one.

With a mischievous grin, like he was truly up to an alternative plan, Sirius announced, "Hermione and I are shaking up!"

The room opened up to the warm laughter, sharing smiles and cheers all around, leaving Hermione in a blushing red mess amongst the mass. Their world seemed to be getting smaller as Sirius helped solidify their relationship before those that may have misunderstood it. Displaying affection or sharing whispers only held so much weight, but learning that it was their intention of sharing a household together truly justified their romance. An added celebratory toast was given by Remus, after receiving the news of the gift of Grimmauld Place.

Sirius was standing by the fireplace, gazing into the flames and reflecting on the turn his life had taken. No more dark times, no longer did he pine for the witch of his dreams and the days of having a prejudice pureblood family were gone. As his mind wandered, watching each flicker dance before him like a devil enchantress, he did not see Ron making his way towards him.

"I can't say that I'm alright with you and her," Ron managed to say, stumbling over a few syllables like he did steps. "But, if she's happy, I guess I can say good luck."

Sirius gave Ron a friendly smile. It was evident that his godson's best friend had still not come to terms with his relationship with his ex-girlfriend and friend. He watched the emotional struggle play over the ginger's face as he tried to extend a hand and took it sincerely.

Taking his hand more to help the young man balance, he replied, "I don't expect anyone to take us easy, mate. But, I have no intention of hurting her."

Ron nodded, shaking his head to steady himself as it was apparent the effects of Fire whisky were taking its toll on him. He blinked a few times, trying to focus on Sirius and said, "Right, me either!"

"Glad we have that sorted," Sirius added, still shaking Ron's hand.

"So, if you two choose to carry on and copulate," Ron said, finally letting go of Sirius's hand, "then who am I to interrupt. Unless, she wants me to interrupt. Has she said anything about me?"

Sirius watched Ron swaying where he stood, wondering if he even realized what he was asking aloud. Still, he couldn't help himself, "You mean when we copulate? No, she hasn't mentioned you while we do that."

Ron's face crinkled, unhappy with the answer he received, "Oh well, right. I guess good luck."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Sirius and Hermione were strolling down a familiar street that had rows of regal fences lining their property. The sidewalk was wide, wider than other neighborhoods, but the streets were still very narrow considering that two cars were supposed to drive in opposite directions. The street signs had been updated, the neighbors nearby had painted the enormous shutters accenting the windows and a tree swing had been added to the large oak that grew directly across from the house Hermione and Sirius were looking at.

"Now, if you don't like it, we can find someplace else," Sirius said as they walked closer. His face looked sour as he took in the rusty gate and overgrown branches covering the view of the house. "I'm not as attached to it as you may think. In fact, a change wouldn't be that bad-"

"Are you kidding? Honey, I loved this house!" she said squeezing his hand and leaning a head against his shoulder. The house was coming well into view with its ornate iron gates and intricate details engraved in the metal that swirled around in a medieval style.

"I haven't been here in nearly nine years. It was dusty then, it's going to be dusty now. I considered hiding in it for awhile, but suspected the neighbors might notice something wrong." Sirius glanced over to his pretty young witch, offering her the opportunity to change her mind if she wasn't happy.

"Do you not want to move in here again, Sirius? Is that why you're trying to sway me?" she asked sweetly.

"I could care less where we lived. I just want you to have what you want," he said offering her a handsome smile.

Sirius took his wand from the inside of his jacket and whispered the unlocking incantation against the tall intimidating iron gate. Like hearing a familiar friend, the gate clinked and chimed, uncoiling its chain like a snake and opening slowly with a screeching rusty sound that demanded to be oiled.

"Now that we've announced to the neighborhood that I'm home," Sirius said with a light chuckle, "that should be the first thing I take care of."

They passed over the threshold and through the gate that was protecting the large house. It was hidden beyond large trees and overgrown bushes that shadowed the house, making it appear darker in broad overcast daylight. It looked like a scene from a Halloween movie with its broken branches and dilapidated state. The front steps were broken, the railings leading to the front door were only half there and the front door appeared weathered and abused.

Still, Hermione smiled and looked past all its imperfections, seeing the house to be just as charming and inviting as it once was the first time she visited. The butterflies welled up inside of her, seeing the enormous structure through different eyes now. When she first visited the house, she was full of guilt and anxiety, but now it stood as a beacon of promise and hope for the two of them.

Sirius was captivated with the way Hermione gazed up at the house, approaching it like a child seeing Hogwarts for the first time. She couldn't be more beautiful to him, for her face was brightened by the sheer prospect of making this her new home.

"You haven't seen the inside, yet," he sighed under his breath. He did not want her to be disappointed.

As they took a few steps towards the front door, Hermione stopped abruptly and froze, looking at the ground. She seemed to be in a trance for a few seconds, before she squeezed Sirius's hand tighter. She looked up at him, then around at the way the grass had grown over the once neatly trimmed lawn.

"What is it, love?" he whispered, concerned with her immediate change.

"This is where you left me that night," she started. She pointed to a place in the grass and finished, "you were on your motorbike just there. It was raining that night and I remember how badly I wanted to tell you to stay." Sirius frowned and rested a hand on her cheek to soothe her. "I was so worried about what was going to happen to you."

He pulled her into a protective hug, leaving a kiss on her head, "I hated leaving you that night, but I had to go and check on, Peter. I think I knew deep down, you weren't going to be there when I returned."

Hermione clung to him, her face pressed tightly against his chest, taking in the serene scent of his cologne. His strong arms held her tight and she felt him pressing his lips to her head. He murmured how he loved her for what she did. With a subtle gesture, he helped turn her around back to the house and together they approached the front door.

Sirius pointed his wand to the tarnished door handle and tapped it three times as he murmured an incantation. Then, preparing for the worst, he glanced once to his witch and then to the handle of the door. With a mutual smile and nod, he held his breath and pushed the door open before them.

Showing him that she harbored no fear in entering, she stepped over the threshold first. Letting go of his hand, her eyes took in the dusty entrance, looking about the foyer as if she were stepping back in time. What had only been a few months to her, had been years for time since this house had been vacated. Her memory of following Sirius to the door as he rushed out to check on Peter flooded her to the very core. She could almost hear his rushed footsteps on the hard wood floor.

The parlor on the right beyond the archway still had the furniture positioned the same way, though now they appeared dusty and worn from years of neglect. The curtains were closed, just as she had pulled them before they went to bed on that fateful night, but evidently infested with doxies by the slight movement beneath the folds. The portraits on the walls had awoken from a long slumber (including the one of a sleeping Harry and a scared Regulus) and the old wooden floors groaned their distress as they stepped in, having settled for several years.

Sirius was just behind Hermione, but his eyes were not on the house, they were on her. He watched with admiring eyes as she stepped through freely, taking no notice to the dust, the mess or the tattered appearance of the walls and railings of the staircase. She was mesmerized by an unseen magic that it never occurred to him how happy she truly was by getting back into the house he used to live in when they were together the first time. As if weightless, she drifted further inside, flashing a sweet grin as she glanced over her shoulder. She carried on like an angel with peaceful wings towards the kitchen where upon disappearing around the corner, she peeked back to make sure he was following.

"I'm right here. I'm not running away, yet," he chuckled as he closed the door behind him. He casually slid his hands into his pockets and slowly surveyed the forsaken home, making mental notes of what needed to be repaired, replaced and renewed.

When Sirius was younger, he thrived on making his house as "Muggled" as possible, but what was once a contemporary look was now outdated and just tacky. The kitchen was hideous to modern eyes, even by magical ones, for the decor was ghastly with retro designs even on the dishes. The glasses and pottery were immediately to be replaced, along with the outdated appliances that appeared rusted having not been used for a very long time.

Against the wall, the wet bar was in the same place as she remembered, but it appeared as if it had been raided for anything left behind inside of it. Empty bottles, some broken, lay scattered around the old hutch with a mesh front. Her brow furrowed as she looked around the rest of the kitchen, afraid that an intruder had indeed broken in and she was looking for further disarray. After a few more spins in one place, she deduced that aside from the dusty mess it was the only area truly disturbed.

The sound of Sirius's booted steps turned the corner into the kitchen, followed by a long winded whistle as he appraised the future food quarters. He shook his head, disgusted by his old taste in kitchen decor. As he took in the room around him, he immediately fell into concern as he caught the worried look on Hermione's face. When she gestured to the broken bottles around the bar, he sighed and shook his head acknowledging the damage. Like someone had pulled a string out of him that was keeping him straight backed and proud, he slouched as he revisited a bad time in that house. With a silent nod, he made his way around the counter and took a seat on a dusty stool.

"I did end up staying here a few nights those nine years ago, after we lost Peter...and I found you," he said as he folded his hands in front of him. His voice was low and sincere; painful even.

Hermione heard the woe in his voice; a reminder of the man he once was and a life he used to live. She thought to herself how she used to see him as a kind man and good to Harry with dark stories to tell, when the reversed side was him meeting his past love when she was only thirteen. How traumatic that must have been for him to have everything fall into place in a matter of moments, she thought. How lonely a life he had lived and only now in his late thirties was he beginning to feel like he truly belonged again.

Hermione felt her heart pull for him, wishing that her very touch would sooth him, but he harbored his dark memories. With slow timid steps, she went around to him and hung her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder. She kissed him sweetly against his ear, whispering her apologies.

With a quiet voice she said, "I love who you are, Sirius. You fascinate me." He gave her a half smile and rubbed the arm that was draped across his neck. "I'm never letting you go. Not even if you ran through the Veil, again. I would come for you."

A few moments passed and they enjoyed the silence, listening to the house settle around them, creaking its ailments and necessary repairs. Finally, Sirius swiveled around on his stool, pulling Hermione into his arms so that they could look at the house together.

"So, you really want to stay here? In this dusty old shack?" he whispered, breathing in her aura that smelled of lilac and jasmine. He loved the way her soft curls felt around his face as he rested his chin on her shoulder; his arms hugging her close.

"Yes, with only minor changes. A good clean, some new paint, slight redecorating - if that's okay with you, of course," she said, turning around to see his face.

"You can do whatever you want, love. It's your house. I'm just along for the ride and I'll trust anything you want to do," he admitted, giving her carte blanche. His happiness was her happiness.

"I'm glad you said that, because as much as that fur rug in front of the fire has sentimental significance, it has to go."

"Oh, if that rug could talk-" he chuckled, purring against the side of her neck.

"And that's why it's going!" she confirmed, knowing full well she wasn't the first girl to be taken while lying there.

Almost a half hour later, Hermione was buzzing around on the second floor, her mind racing through different ideas with what to do with the extra three rooms that Sirius had only used as storage, other than the one room with the girlie wardrobe. She ventured through the house, wand at the ready, looking in closets and behind mysterious doors coming upon interesting artifacts from Sirius's groovy past.

The older wizard was down outside, standing in the street and looking up at the structure from a carpenter's point of view. He surveyed the damage the years had caused passing through the elements as well as obvious neglect from it being a magical house in a muggle neighborhood. Sirius watched the shading around the house, noticing where the tree limbs hung low near the roof and thinking of how much work he would have to do in order to clear the extra branches. He also thought about the front gates where wild vines had grown along the iron gate, giving an extra bit of privacy. Something he favored, but was unsure what Hermione's take on it was. He imagined buying something of a sports car and parking it close to the house, something not too flashy, but something Hermione wouldn't mind driving from time to time. Something very muggle.

As he stood outside, he glanced down the street where a few neighbors were outside checking their mail or just enjoying the brisk air that particular January day. In the nearby distance, he heard a neighborhood dog barking, announcing its presence or trying to frighten off an unwanted guest. Overall, it was peaceful and serene and for the first time in his life, Sirius felt very warm in his surroundings and hopeful for the future.

"Hello, there," said a voice to Sirius's left. Glancing over, he saw a man, a muggle no doubt, wearing a blue polo shirt and pair of khaki pants with a friendly smile as he joined Sirius in the middle of the street.

"Jim," he said extending his hand for a proper greeting. "I live in the next house there, the green one."

"Sirius, good to meet you," he said as he shook the man's hand.

"Considering moving into the house there? Number twenty-four?" the man asked, relating to Sirius at a common level as he looked up at the evergreen house hidden behind intimidating tree branches. He reminded Sirius of Arthur Weasley with his excessive friendliness.

"Yes, that is the plan."

"Good to hear it. No one has been in it for years. I never noticed a for sale sign out front, but no one came around to check on it, either. Kind of a mystery, really," Jim said, explaining what he knew. Meanwhile, Hermione was just peeking outside the great gate and giving him a wave. She apparently was outside surveying the grounds on the other side of the yard.

"Yes, I'm sure it has been. It's been in the family for a few years, you could say," Sirius smiled to his young witch.

"Really? There was a young guy living there, ages ago. Rode a motorcycle, quiet, except for the motorcycle."

"Yes, that was...me."

"Oh, sorry, mate. Didn't recognize you. Then again, we never officially met, did we?"

"No, sorry about that. I've been away for awhile, abroad and traveling you could say. Left the house and just getting back to it now," Sirius explained as plainly as he could.

"Wow. That must have been one hell of a trip, then. It's been what...?" Jim started to think.

"Too long to count," Sirius replied dry and almost dismal. The thought of how much time he'd missed left a strong pang in his heart. The only saving grace was that he was frozen, unable to age, unable to think, for a good five years of them.

"Yeah, I guess that's about right. Is that your wife?"

"Ah, no," he returned, somewhat curious to why his long time neighbor was so inquisitive, but just put it off to "new neighbor chat" that was pretty normal. "She's more than that. She saved my life."

"Well, whatever it is mate, looks like she's ready to turn your house upside down. She's along the side here, pulling weeds already with a small tiny stick." Jim pointed to the area of the house that they could both see from the street when the iron gate was open and Hermione was, indeed, playing in the weeds.

"If you'll excuse me, she's not much of a gardener," Sirius said, shaking his head and offering his neighbor a smile. He waved to the man and walked back through the gate, closing it partially behind him to shield him from curious eyes.

Sirius approached the woman with a mission. With her hair pulled back in a messy bun, she knelt on her knees in a praying manner before a patch of wild weeds growing up along the side of the house. She aimed her wand at the suffocating vines that lay against the wood, quietly whispering an incantation that forced the plant to wither away in her hands. Once satisfied with the result, she continued to dig deeper, pawing around the prettier vines to get to the nasty appearing ones.

"Sweetheart, what are you doing? The man I was talking to could see your wand," he said, his arms folding across his chest with a serious side smirk over his lips. His darker side began to creep out as he took note of her appropriate height as she knelt on her knees. He managed to play off his chuckle as a cough.

"Oh, well, I was just pointing it really, nothing too obvious, " she said, shoving her wand back into her pocket and pulling with all her might on a long vine with pointy green leaves.

"Do I dare ask what you're doing? Because, it looks incredibly tiresome and I know I'm going to be a right tosser when I don't help, so just to save face, explain part of the manual weeding you're doing." Sirius stood firm, cocking his head to the side to survey her unnecessary work.

"I'm testing the strange plants growing along the fence. Just making sure that they're not poisonous for when we have kids. These are precautions we have to take," she said, still very focused on the plants like they were a diligent challenge, but not noticing the smirk wipe clean off his face.


	7. Flashes of a Good Life

_A note from Serade Black: __I can only apologize for my hiatus, but life took an amazing turn! My husband and I are expecting our first child this summer. Anyway, back to the story, I've had questions about the timeline, so to answer, yes time is progressing and I'm trying to document what time of year it is as best as I can. At the beginning of this chapter, it will be clear when they are. Sirius and Hermione's story took a different direction and I had to rehash the story a bit (for my outline), before I could continue. I always have an outline for my stories, but this one went slower than I wanted. I hope you enjoy the upcoming chapters and the words I have are: Things aren't always what they seem. Enjoy!_

**Ch. 7 - Flashes of a Good Life**

The wind outside started to pick up with fierce force. Brittle branches belonging to old trees danced into the air, tapping against any window pane it could reach. Snow fell heavy this season, blanketing the streets and brick windowsills, creating a typical look English look. Beyond the strong wrought iron gates of number twenty-four, candle light could be seen illuminating the windows.

In the warm house with newly finished wood flooring, a fire burned strong as it lit up the faces of the two inhabitants. Sirius was lying on the floor, his legs stretched and his ankles crossed. He was wearing plaid pajama pants with no shirt, displaying his toned chest adorned with tribal markings. His eyes were fixed on the fire as the beautiful young witch next to him covered her bare shoulders with a nearby blanket. She wore a red satin night gown that didn't leave much to the imagination and not much to keep her warm. Several remarks were made that she wouldn't be wearing it much longer.

The room they sat in, the main parlor of the house, was still unfinished. In fact, the whole house was far from done, but it was finally settled enough to sleep under the roof, that was now repaired. The wall paper had been stripped, the cabinets in the kitchen had been ripped out, the modern electrical lights hung with exposed wires and candles were being used in the meantime.

"Are you sure you don't want to spend tonight with Harry and the rest of the lot?" Hermione asked, raising her champagne flute to Sirius's level. She tossed her hair over her other shoulder, in order to allow the heat from the fire to warm her face.

"Absolutely," he cooed, raising his glass to toast with her. "What better way to bring in the New Year than alone, together, in the first night of this house?"

She smiled, dropping her eyes to his mouth and then to the floor between them. He had a way of making any moment feel so special, enough for butterflies to well up within her all over again.

"You're beautiful, you know. You continue to enchant me beyond words, Hermione Granger." He pushed a lock of her hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. "I couldn't imagine myself without you."

"Then don't," she said simply as she sipped her champagne. She allowed her eyes to drift towards the flames in the fireplace before them.

"I haven't a reason to, my love." He pushed the blanket to fall off her shoulder in order to lay a light kiss on the exposed skin.

She closed her eyes to take in his gentle caress; she knew his motives too well. With minimal effort, Hermione slid out of her blanket and crawled onto him. As she straddled him, her arms pinned him down as he was still upright and leaning on his elbows. She felt his hands gently sliding up along her ribs, letting his fingers catch on the satin fabric. With hunger in her eyes, she leaned down and met his eager lips.

She trailed kisses over his cheek, along his sharp jaw, and up to his ear where she sighed, "Happy New Year, Sirius."

The end of January was approaching. The holiday season was behind them and work resumed without a second thought. Hermione was filing away some folders into a cabinet, as her partner Isa could be heard clicking down the hallway in her rather elaborate pumps, not conventional for work.

She swung around the corner entering Hermione's office and holding rolls and rolls of parchment and laying them all over her just neatened desk. "Out of the three hundred and seventy-two people you pulled out that day, we only have record on about two hundred and thirty. Forty-eight are presumed dead and one lives with you," she jabbed. "There are still several cases undetermined."

Closing the drawer in her cabinet, Hermione sighed and walked over to her desk, looking down at the rolls and rolls of scrolls without an end. They gathered in the center, keeping them neat and tidy for her, due to her anti-clutter enchantment on her desk. "I think that we may have to conclude that perhaps, some just don't want to be found."

"Why not? They're entitled to a stipend, they could really make out on this project if they came forward," Isa added, bewildered why anyone would turn down free galleons.

"We can't think for them, Isa," she said pushing away a few stray locks that had pulled away from her pins holding her hair back. "Perhaps I'll speak to the Minister about putting up an enchantment for them, should they ever enter the Ministry. Nothing to hurt them, just something to put a mark on them so people know."

Isa looked beside herself and turned to leave her office, clicking away down the hallway with furious steps.

Unsure of what the next step was for "Project Veil", Hermione vacated her office to go downstairs to the main hall of the Ministry to get a cup of fresh hot tea and a scone. As she left her department, passing a few rows of offices along the way, she couldn't help but think of the day she executed Project Veil. Months of planning went into it, the science of whether someone could actually come out, based on the fact that only some could hear voices just on the other side. The veil was supposed to be final, the next phase, not a waiting room of bodies and souls that weren't ready to pass over.

Hermione's rather simple plan of sending someone in, namely a convicted Death Eater in Azkaban, restrained on the living side. Said prisoner, or subject, would reach into the empty void and see if survivors were possible. All but a dozen were alive and were grateful to return. They had an immediate aversion to the light, shading themselves and crying that even the torch lights in the Department of Mysteries were too harsh. They needed to feel others; they reached out once they were back in their own world, for a connection, another warm body. They were starved for affection.

Her motivation for the project was Sirius.

Because of a simple two worded sentence she found at the end of her diary from when she was fifteen, it prompted her to push forward with the project in the event that the wronged prisoner could be saved. In the process several others were also retrieved from beyond the veil, but it wasn't until she rescued Sirius did she stop. Seeing him as a rescued soul in the arms of McNair, having just been yanked back to the side of the wizarding world, was a beacon of hope. He represented a second chance, but mostly it was for her selfish reasons that he might be the man that she needed. She never forgot the way he reached out for her, held her and whispered her name once he realized where he was. In return, she held onto him tight, believing at the time, that he needed and wanted her. Little did she know the past they had already shared due to her travel with the Time Turner, Hermione welcomed him with open arms, wanting desperately to be that person to him. Her mission had been completed.

The business day at the Ministry was a normal one. Low flying office memos soared into lifts, while news stands heckled their papers. The fountain, having been demolished by the epic battle between Voldemort and Dumbledore seven years earlier, had been restored and refinished to a new shine.

Weaving in and out of employees coming and going to work, along with guests meeting different departments, Hermione managed to locate her favorite kiosk where a nice older man with blue eyes always knew what she wanted. Offering him the sickles and looking around as she patiently waited for her hot beverage, her eyes caught someone directly down the hall from where she came. People passed between them blocking her view, but she noticed a man that looked a lot like the man she saw months ago at the secret park her friends had gone to play pick-up quidditch at.

The man with dark hair leaned against the wall turning the pages of the Daily Prophet. He glanced towards Hermione's way and for a second their eyes met. Hermione felt a pang deep inside her chest. She didn't feel unsettled, just curious to the man. There was something odd about him, something a little off, but still intriguing. After they glanced at each other for a third time, the man folded up his paper and started walking towards the commuting fire places.

Hermione thanked the older man for making her tea and set off to follow him, not sure what she would say to him if she were able to catch up in time. Visitors of the Ministry blocked her view as they looked around the magnificent hall, admiring the large hanging portrait of Minister Shacklebolt. She apologized as she pushed through them, barely keeping track of the man who was set on making it to the commuting fire places. She wanted to call out, try and get his attention, but before she was close enough to call out to him, he walked into a fireplace and disappeared.

0o0o0o0o00oo0o0o0o

Two bodies lay wrapped in high count bed sheets. The afternoon was still bright outside of the windows, but the sun's rays were beginning to turn a pink shade, indicating its initial decent onto the horizon. Hermione lay on her stomach, her bare back exposed as the sheets fell down just below her hips. Her hand rested on Sirius's handsome chest as her fingers absent-mindedly traced over his tattoos. They smiled to one another, basking in the afterglow of pleasing the other; their breath just now settling and their muscles relaxing.

"What was it like being in the Veil?" she asked in a quiet voice.

He sighed to himself, knowing that he would never deprive her of anything she wanted to know. "Dark." His eyes focused on the ceiling and he began to clear his mind to think back on the experience. "Timeless."

"Could you feel?"

"Yes," he said quietly, "and no." His chest rose and then fell with a patient long prepared breath, "I knew I was somewhere else. I had no sense of life anymore; no sense of breathing or emotion. I could move, but the longer I was there, the less I wanted to. When I first fell in, it was like being submerged underwater: you tried to kick around, reach for something, but there was always a current against you. Pretty soon, your drive to get away, or get out, began to lessen. You no longer felt compelled to get out or get anywhere and so you'd float. You didn't have to breathe, you couldn't hear, you definitely couldn't see, but you just waited. My arms began to lose any kind of strength, my legs were lifeless and my heart stopped beating." He heard her immediate intake of breath and turned to see the sorrow shadowed in her face. Silent tears slid down her cheek. She looked desperate, hurt and worried for him. "Occasionally, I would bump into another there with me, but the need or desire to feel was no longer there. Nothing could be said, nothing could be expressed, you just existed."

Hermione broke even more, her sobs becoming more apparent. She felt absolute pain for him and his loneliness. The idea of him being somewhere so out of touch was almost too much to fathom and she reached out to touch his beautiful face that looked upon her with deep grey eyes of love and passion that had lurked behind transparent walls for too long. He had died, twice, and she fought to bring him back both times.

Sirius rolled on his side, spooning his body close to hers and rolling her on her side so that he could couple with her body again, becoming one with their naked flesh. "Then one day, I was grabbed by something I actually felt and the magic began to flow through me, like something extended on the other side. I was lifted out of the muffled abyss and my senses returned to me. I could hear, I felt the ground beneath my feet and then I desired nothing but touch. I could barely open my eyes, for they needed to adjust again to natural light. I remember hearing a voice and then I recognized it as yours. I reached out for you and you embraced me. I felt the warmth coming back into my soul, weight falling into my muscles and I needed to learn how to breathe again." Sirius began leaving feather kisses against her eyelids and temples, "You brought me home."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

A gathering at Harry's brought everyone together. The weather outside was still putting up a fight, having been one of the heaviest winters that England had seen in decades. Making the most of outdoor sports, the twins had enchanted a sled to pull itself up and down the hillside, until it capsized near the bottom of the slope.

It was Ron's turn next and he volunteered Hermione to join him on the sled. Making sure her jacket was closed tightly and her hands were positioned around Ron's waist, the two started to pick up speed over the first hill drop. Their laughter could be heard from the wizard spectators, but it was the pure exhilaration of being airborne on the second drop that erupted some unsteady cries. Hermione hid her eyes into Ron's back, not wanting to see where they were about to land, but being on an enchanted sled, their landing was much softer than to be expected.

Of course, once they landed, the sled turned itself over, dumping out its occupants and starting back up the hill to retrieve more thrill seekers.

"That was fun," Ron said, brushing himself of the excess snow. "Bet you didn't see that soft landing happening."

"No, I didn't. But, I should have known, it being a Weasley product and all." Hermione brushed herself in unison and started the hike back up to the house where they could properly warm up.

"Sirius not coming, then?" Ron asked, taking Hermione's hand as he started up the steep slope upwards.

"He is. Just getting here, later. He was a bit tied up at the Ministry, today. They called him in for an opinion on a couple that came up on my project. He's kind of an Ambassador for them, you could say." Hermione held Ron's hand tightly, careful of her steps through the untrusting snow.

"That's great that he can come in handy like that. And all because of the work you did, Hermione. Truly, it was a great thing you did. I couldn't have come up with a plan like that, but then again, this is you we're talking about," he said with a glance.

"Stop, Ron. I just focused on one thing for a friend and the plan pretty much developed on its own after that. I can't take all the credit for it."

Ron glanced down to where his and Hermione's hands were joined. Her gloved hands wound nicely within his, allowing her thumb to pass over his fingers from time to time. He wondered if it was some kind of residual habit.

"So, what is to become of you two now that you're sharing a house together?" Ron asked, clearing his throat and seeing the house more in view. Subconsciously, he slowed his steps.

"Ah, well," she stalled, "We're still getting settled into the house. I mean, we have totally gutted it since he lived there so long ago. It's virtually like a new house, compared to what he knew. I really loved it the way it was, but it was part of the compromise if we lived there. He wanted everything updated. Said he didn't want to look at the same walls from a lifetime ago."

"You mean when he was younger? Before the Potters were killed and he was with you?" Ron asked, pulling his hand away and stuffing it into his pockets. His choices of words were not as comforting as he thought.

"Yes. It conjures a lot of bad memories for him and I wanted to cleanse that if I could. Otherwise, all of it was fine really. I didn't mind it." Hermione took to dusting off residual snow out of habit, before approaching the house. The next pair, Ginny and Harry, were already attempting the enchanted sled and they whizzed by with jolly laugher.

"So, are you adjusting? To him, that is? I can only imagine how many hiccups you two are dealing with from the after effects of the Time Turner. I mean, aside from the generous age gap-"

"Ron, where are you going with this? Our age has nothing to do with anything. We're fine."

"That's all well and good, but what are your future plans with him, now that you're settled?"

She looked away, displaying sincere frustration from his constant prodding, "Life, Ron. Just life."

"Hermione, you're the smartest girl I've ever known. There is no way you're going along with this without a plan." Ron seemed to have genuine concern for his long time friend. Her voice didn't sound confident and he was calling her out on it.

"It's just free will. I'm happy. He's happy. Let's drop it."

Ron sighed and shook his head, "You're right, I'm sorry. I was just looking out for you. I feel like I should, so I am. Don't blame me for trying."

Hermione glanced over to him, but this time with a softened face. She appreciated what he was doing and knew that she was coming back a bit harsh. With a slight nod, she opened her arms and reached out to hug him. He welcomed her warmly, without a word further. They were just so familiar to one another.

Later that evening, Sirius and Hermione returned to their nearly finished house. The outside panels of the house had all been replaced, a new railing had been installed leading up to the front door and the handle of the dark wood had been polished nearly too new. Once entering the house, you got a much warmer feeling stepping over the threshold than you once did in its prime. The walls now had color and dressed on them were updated moving and unmoving photographs depicting their lives.

"You're troubled, love," Sirius said, removing his scarf and hanging it up on the hook awaiting his coat. He then turned and helped Hermione remove hers, "What is it?"

She sighed, "It's just, Ron." She freed herself of her coat and continued down the hall to the kitchen where she pulled down two glasses to ready for a bottle of wine. "I get so tired of his questioning."

"In what way?"

"He's compelled to inquire about us nearly every time he gets the chance. I understand how this might appear so sudden to him, but he's just not letting it go. It's beginning to become rather annoying," she concluded while uncorking the bottle.

Sirius took the bottle from her and took the liberty of filling both their glasses. With a routine toast, he sipped in thought and said, "He's protective of you. That's clear."

"Yes, but I'm really over all of what he's saying. He doesn't know me. He didn't know me well enough back then, so why now is he so keen to what I'm feeling?"

Sirius walked around their counter and took a seat on one of the bar stools across from her. He shook his head and as he leaned on his elbows, his glass dangling from his fingers, he peered up at her from beneath his long locks, "Perhaps what he is thinking, is that he can offer you more than I can."

"No-"

"He is closer to your age; you have a lifetime left with him-"

"I have a lifetime left with you. We've been round this and I don't care to discuss it further, Sirius." She sounded exhausted over the subject and started to retreat towards the stairs.

"You're leaving me? Just like that?" he asked with a sarcastic tone. A smirk grazed his lip, for he loved it when she was so easily frazzled.

"I'm going to draw a bath," she added as she stepped on the first stair and looked back. "Aren't you coming?"

His slight smirk broadened into a smile and with little convincing, he followed her up the stairs, taking the wine bottle with him.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

It was an overcast afternoon and a day that both Hermione and Sirius had decided to stay in. Small touches were being made and moving portraits were finding heir new arrangements on parlor walls. The kitchen had finally finished its complete overhaul, along with the bedrooms receiving the finer royal treatments that Sirius insisted they splurge on. Proof that his rich sense of taste came from being a Black.

"Now, keep your eyes closed!" Hermione said, her hands covering his eyes as she stood close behind him. Very carefully, she guided him through the hallway towards the back of the house.

"I really do not think this is necessary, love," he said, holding his arms out cautiously as he walked. As much as he loved feeling her warm body hugged close behind him, he still didn't have a lot of confidence in her direction. "I trust you, but I think you might find it funny to run me into the door."

She stifled a small laugh only to add, "I'm not going to run you into the door. Now, through here." She led him through the kitchen and out the backdoor to their garden. Positioning him centered on their deck, making sure he would get the best view to his surprise that sat about fifteen feet before him.

"You are going to be taking your clothes off, right?"

She ignored his question and continued, "Are you ready?"

"No."

"Alright, you can look!" she exclaimed, removing her hands from covering his eyes.

With low expectations, not believing that this witch could give him anything more than what he already wanted, he opened his eyes slowly. At first he contemplated what it was he was looking at, only to widen his eyes to the size of saucers. He rushed down the stairs, his hands outreached in disbelief as kept turning around to look at her and then his present.

There, displayed like a present on Christmas morning, was a 60's dual chrome Harley Davidson in decent condition sitting right in his back garden beneath an oak tree.

He was in awe for at least seven seconds, before he finally muttered, "Truly?"

She smiled ever so smug and followed him down the stairs and into the grass. "You have your work cut out for you. I wasn't going to make it easy and get you a new one."

Sirius circled around the bike, touching it in small areas to examine it carefully, mentally appraising it. He was amazed that Hermione had found such a jewel, sitting on its stand like a stallion waiting for a rider and in desperate need of a shine.

Quite pleased with herself that he was so elated over his gift, she hugged her arms around herself as his face lit up like a small child. She admired how handsome he was as he focused all his attentions on something he once cherished. Shadows of the younger man could be seen by the well-known eye, for it was as if he was given another piece of his forgotten life back.

He crouched down next to it in order to inspect the body parts closer, pushing his black locks behind his ear. Admiring his general form, memories flooded back to her of the way he used to be. A side of him was reflected in this bike and only she knew the way to it.

"The previous owner said it rides like a top, but it still needs a bit of extra attention in the right area. The seller rode it over here, with me on the back, and even I have to say it's pretty smooth, " Hermione explained.

Sirius looked up at her and for a moment he was the picture perfect younger version of himself kneeling there next to the motorbike. "But, I thought the bike always scared you."

"Not when I was on it with you," she smiled as he stood up and walked over to her. "The man I bought it from didn't give me the same sense of security that you did."

Wishing he could tell her how much this meant to him, he was short for words. His charm was the only thing that made it through, "Then, I suppose you've learned your lesson not to ride off with strangers?" She grinned. "The bike is our thing."

"Well, it's all your thing. I just like to be with you," she said, sliding her hands around his neck as he rested his on her waist.

"You know, you never did drive my motorcycle back then, after we made that wager in the maze," he said low and close, referring to the night of their first kiss.

"Perhaps, I really didn't want to win, after all?" she whispered back.

His eyes were intense. His angel stood before him, tightly wound to his body, he was eternally grateful for everything that she was. With one more whisper before a kiss, he said, "Thank you."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

After a long grueling day finalizing the Ambassador program for the Returnees in the Department of Mysteries, Hermione ventured down into the main lobby of the Ministry of Magic. As she exited the elevators, after traveling at a perpendicular direction, she made her routine path towards her favorite coffee cart. Passing the hawking newspaper wizard, she read in flashing letters of the Daily Prophet headline: Bulgaria beats US! After picking up a copy, she stepped in line behind two others waiting to place their order to the wizard barista.

Her eyes peeked over the page and recognized the dark blue shirt in front of her. With black hair pulled in a ponytail at the nape of his neck and a certain grace about him that was clearly recognizable, she folded her paper under her arm and ran a hand up his back.

"Coming to surprise me, love?" she asked with a sultry voice, almost as an invitation.

The man turned around and looked upon his admirer with first a surprise, then a warm smile, "Sorry, I believe you're mistaken." She was met with a handsome face, but with brown eyes and darker features. It was not Sirius!

"Pardon me, sir! I'm ever so sorry, I thought you were...I'm so so sorry!" she said yanking her hand back and dropping her eyes to the floor, wishing she could sink into it.

The man smiled warmly and said, "No harm done, Miss. Though, I believe you just brightened my day with the slight thrill."

Hermione tried to smile, but her cheeks felt as hot as coals and she could barely meet his eyes as he spoke to her. Still, she didn't want to be rude and mustered enough strength to face him. Warm and friendly, meaning no ill, she recognized him as the man she had only seen a glimpse of when he was quick to disappear into a fireplace.

"Well, just for good measure, I'm sorry again," she added, taking in his appearance. She was pretty sure this was the same man.

"No worries. Allow me to buy your coffee. I'm sorry I wasn't who you had hoped. He must be a lucky gentleman," he finished, and before Hermione could object, he insisted on her not paying for her own coffee.

With not a second more, the man said good-bye and walked towards the fireplaces to leave, his java in hand. Hermione was left in slight awe of him, because she was so embarrassed. Still, in the back of her mind, there was something oddly familiar about him.


	8. Gears Start Turning

_A note from te Serade Black: Thank you for the well wishes on the baby. We're very excited, but it does put a hold on my convention attendance! I shall be attending Leaky Con, but only as an outsider, since my costumes are not fitting right now ;) Regardless, I shall be attending Ascendio 2012 in full force complete with another performance. Not a Live! Wizard Chessmatch again, but something even grander! So, this chapter is the PG13 version! All NC17 portions have been edited out, but you can read the saucier version over at my lifejournal. Thank you for the reviews. You know FF writers feed off of them like crack, so keep them coming. I absolutely love the guesses and predictions and remarks made in the reviews - they were really clever clever ;) But, no secrets shall be given... Enjoy ~SB_

Ch. 8 "The Gears Start Turning"

The old elevator in the Ministry creaked with age as it soared in various directions. Department memos hovered about the dozen or so heads that all faced forward, their arms holding some sort of restraining mechanism in order to keep them upright.

Standing in the back, since his stop was mostly last, Sirius hung casually in the corner just people watching. He pitied and envied them at the same time, wondering what a normal life was like; to just blend in with your surroundings having no one take notice you were standing right behind them. For so long, Sirius went undetected once he escaped from Azkaban thanks to his cunning plan of starving himself and sneaking out of those bars. Now, he wished those eyes would remain off of him even into his matured life. He no longer wanted to be in the tabloids, the society section of the Daily Prophet, or in their fading column "Black Tracks" that depicted his outings. Lately, he was featured alongside of his young companion, referring to her as "Harry Potter's Best Friend". That got old rather quickly. Still, he wouldn't change their past for anything.

The elevator stopped on the appropriate floor he desired. Parting the ways between the remaining occupants, Sirius politely excused himself off the rickety contraption and started walking down the hallway. His visits were seldom to this area, having his appointments been met in a different area of the Ministry. Still, he added a slight swagger to his step as his boots clicked loudly on the hard cold floor, eager to see his witch.

He approached the tall intimidating double wooden doors that looked ages old. With cracks and worn marks into the etched wood, it did not hide its age very well. Next to the double doors with the brass handles a plague was mounted on the wall:

**Department of Mysteries**

Sirius gave it as much respect as he did any other authority and opened the door without a second thought. He then continued down a separate hallway, once that felt very sterile and scientific as the pathway was lined with more dark doors, leading off into different mysterious areas.

Finally, he came upon a clearing that was the lobby for the departments beyond and an attractive looking witch with blonde curly hair sat with her nose buried in a book. A Quick Quotes Quill hovered around her head, poised for further dictation. On the counter in front of her, a small bouquet of flowers bloomed, adding to the otherwise dreary decor.

The witch looked up as she heard his clicking boots and with a proud flirtatious smile, she folded her book and cozy up to his attentions. Her big green eyes gazed at him with hopeful interest, but friendly just the same.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Black," she charmed. Here eyes traveled the length of him as he leaned over the counter to speak to her.

"Hello love, is Miss Granger in?" He asked politely, taking a dangerous look down the front of her blouse. He was a man, after all.

"She should be back in her office. She was off in the lab a little while ago, but she's since returned," the reception witch answered, indicating for Sirius to go on passed her.

Pushing off of the counter, he plucked a single flower out of the bouquet nearby and put it between his teeth, offering the witch one of his classic winks. He ventured down the hallway to the last door on the left and he saw that hers was open.

He walked in without warning and holding out his hands to display himself, flower in tact, he came upon his witch speaking to Isa. Both women looked in his direction and offered a sincere chuckle, but it was the way Hermione's face lit up upon seeing him that was heaven bestowed upon him. With a roll of her eyes, Isa gave Sirius a slight smirk and shook her head, excusing herself so that Hermione could greet him appropriately.

Hermione's office was simple with contemporary furnishings showing her muggle side. The wall was lined with her education degree, alongside of individual merits and awards granted to her for her achievements; the most recent was for uncovering one mystery of the Veil. On her desk, odd pens, quills and scrolls were put in neat disarray with two moving portraits depicting her Hogwarts years and a sweet one of her and Sirius from Luna's wedding.

"Hello, handsome," Hermione said, dropping formalities now that her colleague had left her office. She went to her wizards and slid her arms around his neck, removing the flower between his teeth to kiss him. "This is a sweet surprise."

With a kick of his boot, the door to her office closed and he felt free to wrap his arms around her waist in their newfound privacy in order to greet her without any indiscretions. His heart soared as she warmed him with her embrace, still never believing she was there with him. Every day that she had returned from using the Time Turner had been a long awaited blessing, one he never hoped to take advantage of. This is why he was there with her at that moment.

He hugged her tightly, nuzzling his nose into the crook of her neck, taking in her erotic scent. He could smell her intoxicating perfume that was a gift from him ages ago. It was the same familiar scent that had stayed with him all through his most tormented years, having embedded it to memory from the time she first came to him in 1981.

"I love you," he whispered low and against her ear, feeling his pulse quicken for her. He slid his fingers down her back and flattened his hands over her rear, "Missed you."

She felt her cheeks warm from his gentle petting; his body felt stiff and solid against her. Hermione ran her hands down the front of his blazer, her fingers sliding along the lapels and gripping them playfully.

"I always do, Sirius," she replied with an upturned kiss. She loved the way his stubble scraped her lips and chin as they moved together.

Without realizing it, Sirius had gently walked Hermione towards her desk, where she was leaning up against it. One hand slid down her thigh, feeling for the hem of her whimsy skirt. He was found out as his hand attempted to pull her skirt up provocatively up her leg.

He was stopped in an instant, "Sirius." Still, he insisted.

"Thank you for wearing a skirt to the office today, kitten," he growled, finding her sweet spot hidden just below her ear. Her hands slid to his shoulders, giving weak resistance.

The grandfather clock in the hallway ticked away, the sound echoing through the neighboring rooms openly. The portraits on the walls nodded along to one another, still getting used to the new additions that were replacing the older, less friendly ones from years' past. Coupled pictures of Sirius and Hermione decorated the walls, depicting their short life together that everyone would know. Harry, Hermione and Ron in their more youthful years grinned back proudly as they waved their graduating certificates into the Ministry together and lastly, a fond picture of the original Marauders, sans Pettigrew was centered almost too perfectly amongst all the others. Several times, the Hermione in one picture would venture off into the Marauder's frame to sneak off with the other Sirius, leaving the older Sirius to stand alone and file his nails on his coat.

The old picture of the Black Brothers still remained on the wall. Sirius was still very fond of the picture and hadn't the heart to take it down. Hermione supported him, doing nothing to the portrait other than updating the frame it was placed in. There, Slytherin brother against Gryffindor brother remained teasing.

Upstairs and to the end of the hall, a grand bed with mahogany wood was draped in beautiful French linens articulating the deep carvings. There was a matching wardrobe and night stands on either side of the bed to compliment the room, while giving it a regal elegant feel.

Hermione sat in bed propped up with thick plush pillows as her head leaned against the wooden bed frame. A book laid across her lap and for the time being was deeply engrossed in the story as her eyes began to drift off the page and into her real life.

Next to her, Sirius lay on his stomach with one arm tucked under his pillow in habit. His other hand reached out blindly, just to rest a hand somewhere on her skin to feel comfort that she was close. He loved his witch desperately, even on nights where he sacrificed sleep because she still had the light on in order to read.

She glanced over to her handsome wizard that lay so peaceful, but not yet sleeping. A small grin passed over her lips as she thought fondly of their meeting when he was much younger. A boy then, by her standards, she admired the man he had become. Even more so, she admired him for remaining so fixed on her and it was then that she realized this was their destiny to be.

"You know," Hermione started with a quiet voice, not sure if he would hear her, "I'm going to start getting a complex pretty soon."

Very slowly, his eyes opened and blinked for a few moments. He wasn't asleep, but it was obvious he was just on the cusp of dreamland, until he heard her speaking to him. She still clutched her book, but as he looked up at her from the comforts of his goose down pillow, she closed it and slid it away.

"About what, love?" he asked, brushing his hand over her arm, closing his eyes again as he listened to the sooth of her voice.

Her answer was simple, ""If you don't ask me to get married. Pretty soon, I'm just going to have to ask you." Her answer was quick and casual, with devotion in her voice.

With a slight grin, he answered, "You don't want to marry me. Trust me."

"The hell I don't. Of course, I want to marry you. I've just been wondering when you were going to ask me. We haven't even talked about it, Sirius." She said, obviously wanting to pursue the subject matter with him.

He didn't even open his eyes, just rested his hand over her arm and sighed, "Hermione."

Rolling over on her side, she wanted him to open her eyes and look at her when they talked about this sensitive subject, "Don't you want me to be your wife?"

His grey eyes finally opened to meet hers. They both rested on their pillows, their hands touching as if pleased to just be so close and mixed messages seemed to be communicating between them. He did not want to alert her, nor did he want to exhaust this conversation if already he knew she wasn't going to be happy with his side of it all.

"Hermione, to me you're more than my wife. You saved my life, twice, and for that I am eternally grateful. I am your servant, always. I am more in love with you than you will ever understand."

"Then, why not ask me to marry you?" she still asked, not seeing the difference.

For almost a full minute, they looked into each others' eyes, dreaming about life with or without the other one. They had a long life ahead of them together, something that was proved fragile; to change anything might change it all.

With a light sigh, Sirius rolled over on his back, knowing that he wasn't going to be getting to sleep anytime soon as this persisted. He was left without answers, only honesty, and he knew that she wasn't going to like what it was he wanted to say. So, like a bandage, he pulled it right off.

"Because, I'm afraid," he began, pinching the bridge of his nose to avoid a headache he felt coming on, "I'm afraid things would change and not be as they are now. If we got married, things might not be as good."

"Of course, they would change," she said, rising to lean on her elbow, hoping to see his face better, "but for the better. We've come so far, beaten the odds and after everything, I still can't see myself without you. Being married to you is almost at the top of my list."

Curious, he turned his head and asked, "And what, if I may ask, is at the top of the list?"

She swallowed sheepishly and glanced down away from him, her hair falling to shield her face, "Having a baby...with you."

His hands went to his face and he cried into them, "Merlin's-"

He felt the frustration and fear welling up inside of him, like water building up against the dam and any moment, it was going to falter and collapse. He pulled the covers off of him and started to pace the room, feeling a strong sense of uncontrollable anxiety closing in on him. His life was gaining perspective and it wasn't anything he envisioned. Anyone would have been over the moon to marry this witch and have a family with her, but he was too old for all of that, now. He was just happy to be alive and more than blessed that she wanted him in return. He wouldn't deprive her of anything, but for her to start a family with him would be the end. It would change so much, things wouldn't be spontaneous, but remain on thin ice like this lifetime they shared. He just couldn't grasp it; he just couldn't wrap his head around the reality of how things were beginning to play out.

"Sirius, I find this outburst a little disconcerting. Why are you acting like this?" she asked, sitting up in the bed they shared. The sheets and comforter pooled around her, restraining her from getting out and walking alongside of him. Instead, she watched him pace.

"Hermione, I wouldn't have much to contribute to the gene pool. I'd fuck it up!" he said, shaking his head and pacing in the bedroom. His eyes caught a portrait sitting on their dresser and he wondered if the smiling couple looking back at him with wide smiles was really a right match.

"Will you stop? You would not. Besides, where is all this coming from? You just told me that you wanted children, Sirius," she asked, a little concerned, but at least he stopped pacing and stood where he stopped.

Handsome and shirtless, his shoulders slumped and he appeared worn like he'd lost a battle. He walked over to her and rested a hand under her chin, admiring her pretty young face, "That was years ago, Hermione. Before, everything happened."

She took the hand that held her face, looking up into his eyes from the confines of their bed, "Sirius, none of that matter. I love you more now, than I did back then."

He smiled sincerely, loving the way she looked up into his face so hopeful, "It does matter, love."

"Why? I don't see how your views can change so drastically."

"Because, you're almost a lifetime behind me," he finished, coming back to his side of the bed. He was finding it very difficult to continue looking into those beautiful eyes and not granting her what she wanted most of all. He was more than flattered that she would even tease with the idea of becoming Mrs. Black, but he didn't want to condemn her to that title. Not when things were so perfect now, after years of waiting.

She watched him crawl back into bed and pull the covers back up to his chest. She leaned on her side, resting a hand against his chest, "Sirius, I'm not going anywhere, so you might as well start clearing your head of that."

As she rested her chin on the back of her hand, leaning on his chest, he couldn't help but begin to stroke her head. Her luscious waves cascade around her pretty head, looking up at him hopeful and with complete devotion. He yearned for her when she was away from him to the point where his heart ached until she was back in his arms, or just nearby at reach. He treasured their time together, always wanting to be the man she needed, but it was at this moment where he doubted himself.

"Darling, my fear is that everything will change between us. Like something would go away and everything I've held onto would just disappear and I would be lost all over again. I just can't risk that," he said as his hand stroked gently. Finally, his hand stilled on her back as he watched her close her eyes to his words.

His words were quiet on her ears, sweet and light, but concerned nevertheless. She tilted her head to the side and ran a finger along his perfect jaw, "I understand. I'm staying with you whether you marry me, or not. I'll just have to deal with your decision."

With a silent retreat, he closed his eyes and whispered, "Thank you."

"But, in a few years, I might just start signing my name as Black, just to break up the monotony."

He chuckled and resumed stroking his fingers through her soft hair. She leaned up to kiss him, holding her lips to his for a few extra moments, savoring his scent and energy that was all around them. She felt his hand hold her head to him, wanting to cherish their connection as well.

As she pulled away, their eyes just opening, "But someday, I might have the upper hand of your mind and cast a muting spell to hold your tongue and you can't speak Russian to protect us."

She meant it as a joke, but she saw how quickly his face turned into a grimace. He turned his head to face the window, incredibly conflicted from the inside out, disappointed that she hadn't conceded to everything. How was he going to convey to her that child between them would not be the smartest move? What they had now was perfect. A healthy love between them, a happy home, strong support system and whatever they wanted at the disposal of their finger tips and if something, just one more thing like either of the two issues she brought up were factored in, things might change drastically and jeopardized his world.

"I cannot go along with that, love," he said, his voice sounding strained. He still didn't face her.

"Sirius, to be fair, it really shouldn't be up for a discussion. Eventually, I'll be ready to move forward. I don't want to be known as 'Sirius Black's young girlfriend' in all the papers forever. That, to me, sounds unstable." She felt like she was pleading with him, but her voice and breath as cool and calm.

"What do you mean unstable?" he asked quickly, turning his head back to face her. He didn't like how she believed they weren't concrete.

She rolled on her back, somewhat pleased she had stirred something in him that forced him to inquire. She fixed the comforter and sheets around her answering, "Unstable. Inconsistent. Short term-"

This made him lean up on his elbows, his eyes were dark, but convincing, "But, I'm not going anywhere."

"And neither am I, but it's the principle of the matter. I want our life to progress and evolve, I want to be your wife someday, I want to have children with you, and I want to do all the things that you wanted to do when we first met. That's all." She tried to convince him, but merely just stated her case in the calmest 'matter of fact' voice that she could carry.

He sighed while shaking his head, "My priorities have changed, obviously." His voice was quiet, but sincere. "The only thing I want in this life, is to make you happy."

She rolled over on her side, her eyes almost pleading, believing she held the power to convince him. She reached out and ran a hand down his cheek lovingly, "Then be a family with me. I have always held a special fondness for you when I was younger and it's no question why we're together, now. I always dreamt of having someone just like you, someone with a past, someone with stories, someone that I could learn from and above all else, someone I could fall in love with. You have so much more to offer than just a friendship to a child and be that "filler" dad to your best friend's son. You could mold a person that you created to carry the same values you do. You can alter your own destiny and put a better name on the House of Black. It's up to you, Sirius. You're the last one."

He closed his eyes as he cherished the soft touching of her hand along his features, as if she were worshiping him at that moment. He didn't deserve the words she was saying.

"You can't blame a girl asking the love of her life to marry her," she finished.

He smiled and held her hand against his face, "You're twenty-one, love. Not a long life to compare."

"I don't want anyone else, Sirius," she confirmed. "I'm sure of that."

"You just haven't met everyone, yet," he chuckled, warmed by her confession and devotion.

She shook her head, believing that she might be finally getting through to him. "We would be incredible parents. We have so much to offer and I know that you would feel so much more fulfilled than you already do."

Sirius relaxed off of his elbows and rested his head back against his pillows, not letting go of her hand. He looked up at the ceiling, thinking about life and the roads ahead. He pacified her with a quiet, "Perhaps."

She didn't push on, she just leaned over and laid a gentle kiss on his cheek and curled up closely against him. She was feeling more and more complete, again. Though she knew that her battle had not been won full out, at least she had started the process.

As their lights dimmed and the room took on its slumbering energy, he whispered to her through the darkness after all was silent. "I know when I came out of the Veil and you were the one that touched me," he began, feeling her stir next to him to hear him better. "That was the happiest I had ever felt. I don't want to jeopardize what we have together, now, at this moment, under this roof and in this world. But, if I have to make a decision in order to keep you happy, than I will."

She hummed her appreciation and kissed his bare arm, "Thank you, Sirius. Things can only get better."


	9. The Noble Thing to Do

_A note from Serade Black: __Thank you for the kind wishes and awesome reviews. I thrive on them! This chapter has a lot of fluff to push the story along, merely because I want their relationship established so that all understand their level of passion. They're a unique pair, not too rare, but being a strong SB/HR shipper, I believe they have a lot to offer the other in a world of their own. So, to you dear readers...enjoy! Though I'm near the end of my pregnancy, I hope to get at least one more chapter, before my baby comes! ~SB _

Ch. 9 - The Noble Thing to Do

The spring was in full force. The cool afternoons were behind them, but the evenings still held a damp chill at times. The day at number twenty-four was a productive one. The inside of the house had been cleaned and tidied, bookshelves dusted, final portraits hung and the bed linens all refreshed for guests. Spring cleaning in full force in a house they only just completed. Regardless, it kept Hermione busy and domesticated, while Sirius worked outdoors to take advantage of the warmer weather.

Through the house where the windows were all opened, the consistent crank of a muggle wrench could be heard. Putting away her duster and believing that her other half was probably in need of a beverage, Hermione ventured into the kitchen to fetch a glass of lemonade.

She went to the backdoor that opened to the back garden and there she laid her eyes upon a sight that only she was privileged to see. Sirius was sitting the ground next to his motorbike, shirtless. Tools were scattered all around him, lying where he had left them. His body was lean, muscular, firm and lightly tanned as sweat beads trailed over his skin from the diligent hard work he was doing on his muggle contraption. He had one knee bent up, revealing the tattered hole in his jeans as his other leg lay bent before him, giving him that balance. His hair was pulled back in a band, but a few wisps managed to escape and frame his face. Now standing outside, Hermione leaned against the doorway with every deserved right.

He had heard the door, but after no voice followed, Sirius looked up from his tinkering. He met her eyes with a sly smile and gave her his tradition flirty wink.

"Don't mind me, just admiring the view," she said with a smirk, holding the glass of lemonade. "Carry on."

As he smiled when he stood up, she caught a hint of the younger Sirius in the gleam of his eye. He stretched his lean torso in front of him, flexing ever so slightly, rather proud of his healthy new form that was the results of late night runs as Padfoot and healthy meals prepared by his witch.

With oils stains on his face and arms, Hermione's eyes traveled the length of him as he gratefully took the glass she held out for him and consumed it in nearly one gulp. She admired the way his jaw moved as his mouth greeted the glass like an old friend; his thirst desperate to be quenched.

"How's it going out here?" she asked as he finished, interested on his progress.

Sirius set the empty glass down on the nearby table and glanced back at the present from Hermione, "It's coming along. Not ready to fly quite yet, but a few more adjustments and enchantments and it will." He looked back at her and said, "Thank you again, it was an incredible gift."

She smiled back and licked her lips, "You're very welcome. I look forward to riding it with you."

He couldn't help himself as he closed the space between them and rested his dirty hands on her hips, pressing himself seductively against her. She smelled so fresh and fragrant to him, even after she'd been in the house dusting bookshelves and folding the laundry, for she smelled like Hermione.

She welcomed him in, resting her arms around his neck, letting him come in for a kiss. She had no problem with getting grease on her, if it came from him. His hands rose under the hem of her shirt, feeling the slim contours of her body he knew so well.

"I love that you do this," she said sweetly, giving into his flirtations.

"I love that you let me do this," he added, trailing slow kisses down the side of her neck. He nuzzled his scratchy beard against her skin, making her chin tuck in.

She certainly brought out more of his flirtatious old self, like the person he remembered being when he was first trying to pursue her. His heart soared with the way she would meet his glance or if she'd run her fingers through his hair. There were many times when they were in the kitchen, or just walking down the hallway that she would come up behind him and run her hands along his back. She rekindled the youth he had forgotten about so many years ago and the way she displayed her love for him was almost overwhelming and he could never get enough.

She slid down his collarbone and over his bare chest; her fingers taking extra notice to the details of his tattoos. She sighed as she rested her head back against the wall he had backed her up against. To her, he was a dream.

"Do you have any idea how sexy these are to me?" she hummed sliding her fingers over the dark inked etchings on his chest.

"No, tell me," he played coy, loving the attention.

She grinned, just enjoying the sound of his voice. "You have this sort of arrogance about you that exudes an aura that I find myself unable to resist."

He snorted, baiting her to continue, "Arrogance?"

"It's a different sort, now that you're older than I am. Before, you were just cocky, now you're just arrogant."

"I prefer to call it confidence, my love," he added with certainty.

"And that is only one of the many reasons why I'm in love with you."

He closed his eyes and leaned in to kiss her again, after saying, "I am so grateful for you. You are the love of my life, Hermione."

She smiled into his kiss as she gripped his firm biceps. Though pushed up against the side of the house, she was blissfully trapped against him. He always had a special seduction tactic specifically made just for her that left her knees weak and unstable. She loved it.

His rough sneaking fingers traveled up alongside her bare ribcage, teasing himself with the softness of her skin. Their privately secluded garden came to mind as their kiss progressed, but it was her immediate pop of his seduction balloon that forced out a frown.

"I think I should tell you that I invited friends over for dinner, so walking in on us might be a bit traumatic."

Refusing to part his lips from hers, he mumbled, "You might have told me that, before you came outside and tried to seduce me with your witchy ways."

Resting her forearms on his shoulders looking relaxed and calm, she amended, "Nonsense. I just came out here to offer you something to drink. You're the one that instigated all this."

He grimaced and leaned his forehead against hers, "How much time do you think we have?"

"Hard to say," she said in a dream state. She savored the way their faces just fit so perfectly together when close. "They should be here any minute. I opened the Floo, so they could just stroll in."

"Hmm, so I can't bend you over my motorbike, can I?"

"Not right now, you can't," she teased.

It was hard for him to take no for an answer, so instead he just took the liberty of pleasing her mouth, sliding his velvet tongue between her soft lips. He gripped her waist tightly, pressing his belt buckle up against her stomach, pinning her to the wall. Feeding off of her like he hadn't drank for days, he deepened their shared kiss, taking advantage of the few minutes they still had alone. They made out like a couple of teenagers just like they used to...back in 1981.

The backdoor to the house burst open with an enthusiastic, "Hey, there you are - Oh, Merlin!" Harry broke up their moment, voicing his discovery with slight repulsion. Though he had long since accepted it, encouraged it even, it still struck him surprised at some moments. "Sorry, do you want us to come back?"

Giving Hermione a little space, but still keeping a hand around her waist, he smiled to his godson, "No, we're fine."

Harry caught the bike at the corner of his eye, "So, that's it, huh?" Harry went from being polite to being totally attracted to the nice shiny bike that sat parked with parts scattered around it.

Shortly after Harry had stepped out of the doorway and onto the back deck, several followed behind him, obviously looking for its inhabitants. Ron, the twins, Charlie and lastly Remus and Tonks had passed through the door, eager to see Sirius's present from Hermione and its current status of whether it was flying or not. They gathered together looking it over as Sirius and Hermione smiled to their friends, greeting them with only slight smiles that indicated they were somewhat unsatisfied with their too early intrusion.

"Before I sit on it and pretend that I have the knowledge to ride it," George started, "you two haven't christened it, have you?" He gave a glance back at the couple that stood just off from the group; Hermione's head rested against Sirius's shoulder.

"No."

"Yes."

Their answers contradicted the other, but it was obvious who was telling the truth by the playful slap Hermione gave to Sirius, where Sirius feigned shock as he glanced over to her. George followed his gut feeling and refrained from sitting on it and instead just leaned over to inspect the mechanical workings of it.

The evening progressed nicely as everyone reveled in the camaraderie. Hermione cooked a delicious dinner that everyone enjoyed and then after, everyone retired to the living room to listen to the wireless and the latest scores of the Quidditch match between Ireland and Germany (Ireland was in the lead). Everyone had left by the hour of eleven, except for Charlie.

Sprawled out on the floor before the couch, Hermione leaned over a pillow looking up at Sirius and Charlie relaxing on the sofa, drinking their butter beers. Her hair splayed out over her shoulders like a princess as she crossed and uncrossed her ankles, eager to further the discussion into topics she held strong interests in.

Their conversation had turned to science and the muggle studies of magical creatures, whereas Sirius was only a listener. Holding very little interest in magical creatures, he got up to go into the kitchen to refresh his and Charlie's beers.

As he set two cold bottles on the counter to open, his eyes fell on the beautiful woman lying on the floor. He smiled when she sat up to express her thoughts on how the "Americas" were handling the latest issues, using her hands to further exaggerate her point. Her eyes were on Charlie, encouraging his next word and agreeing with how the magical media wasn't directing enough attention to the special causes at hand. She laid a hand to her cheek in thought and then pushed a stray hair behind her ear, inviting Charlie to watch her.

Like a fly on the wall, Sirius watched on. He noticed the way her eyes were captivated with Charlie and the way his mind was voiced. It was obvious that she was relishing in the ability to have this kind of passionate discussion with him and not having it end up in an argument or a battle of the minds. Something she frequently experienced with Sirius and to the fly on the wall, it was somewhat obvious.

Sirius continued to watch the interaction carefully, even after he returned to the sofa with the butter beers. He was aware that Charlie held a special fondness for Hermione and for good reason. She had a beautiful mind and an incredible spirit and it was of no surprise that Charlie seemed to entrance Hermione with his free tongue on worldly views. All things that Sirius cherished in Hermione and loved the talks the two of them shared together, even if they did sometimes end up in heated arguments, a battle of the minds and then ultimately a rather hot make-up session that balanced everything out.

Sensing how out of place he was as they wrapped themselves up further with verbal debates Sirius had mild interest in at two in the morning, he yawned and announced his retirement for the night. Though he rather enjoyed bashing the Ministry on certain subjects, he was not in any capacity to further the conversation that late in the evening, when he was to report to said Ministry by nine in the morning.

"I'll be up soon, Sirius," Hermione charmed, smiling sweetly and reaching for his hand as he passed by. She blew him a kiss and he returned it with a wink.

"Charlie, safe journey home, mate," he said, shaking the young wizard's hand, offering an extra tight grip. He already wasn't keen on leaving his witch alone, but Hermione appeared to be holding her own.

"Right, see you in a month. I leave Tuesday," Charlie added, shaking Sirius's hand and glancing briefly to Hermione who had sat up to meet Sirius.

"Well, again, safe journeys," Sirius added as he excused himself and lightly touched Hermione's cheek with the tips of his fingers as he walked by.

Sirius yawned and though his eyes tried as they might to stay open, he rubbed his hands over his face to remain awake. He was very out of place, but watched how the two interacted. They were on the same level, closer to the same generation and still worldlier than their cohorts. It was mesmerizing to see life in Hermione's eyes again, something he failed to see with him sometimes, but regardless, it was refreshing to see her open up so freely about her work to another that was interested. Even if it was a wizard that tamed dragons halfway across the world.

Around four in the morning, Sirius knew because he opened one eye towards the clock that ticked on the wall as he heard Hermione quietly sneaking into their bedroom. He sensed her removing her clothes and felt the bed move as she slipped underneath the sheets and close next to him. Her arm slid around his waist lovingly, spooning him close and laying a kiss on the back of his shoulder.

"I love you," she whispered against his skin and slowly drifted away. Sirius felt and heard her words, but refrained to reply, for he didn't want her to know he was awake.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Work at the Ministry had been excruciatingly demanding. Hermione had been behind several stacks of backlogged information that was piling up over the reports of those finally coming forward that had returned from the Veil. Using Sirius as an Ambassador had helped greatly, though there still seemed to be a good number unaccounted for.

Sirius's position had been an important one. He had his own office on the first floor of the Ministry, easy to access should anyone desire to see him and talk about their transition back into the world. Having his office too far up in the building would tend to steer potentials to back away, not wishing to make the effort. It wasn't that personal, other than a framed moving portrait of him and Hermione from Christmas holidays sitting on his desk, as he didn't visit it very often. He was good at personalizing his connections by taking those that had returned out to lunch, or to a nearby park to talk freely or by just making an appointment to meet them down at the pub to relax and get comfortable.

Quite a few had come forward once they learned Sirius was their go-to person back into the wizarding society. Thanks to a friendlier cooperation with the Daily Prophet, alerting those in hiding that one of their own was their representative provided a useful tool to be taken advantage of.

The downside was that the progressive paperwork that seemed to come in went right to the Department of Mysteries where his own love was to process them. He would tried and stall his filing, knowing that Hermione was backed up and leading the project onward, but it was repeated countless times by her and her own superior that it was always business, never personal. Thus her nights were often delayed coming home, missing Sirius before he went down to the pub for dinner alone, or pulling a couple all nighters where the couple appeared to be like two ships passing in the night.

Along with his plagued thoughts of working within the Ministry, Sirius's mind turned to his personal life, focusing on the beautiful witch he shared his life with. Though they remained strong, there was a place in his thinking where she was absent. Work had only inhibited them slightly, but it was her correspondence with others that worried him. She loved him, he had no doubt of that, but he could never help but wonder if she was missing out on so much more. She craved nights out with Harry and Ron and when she was able to see them, Sirius let her go on without him. There was no reason he needed to tie her down from having fun with her friends, just like she would never put a stop to his desires should Remus demand his attentions. He encouraged her to flourish with them, be like she once was, but she always relayed to him that she was perfectly content to be as she was now, happily committed and focused. However, there was no mistaking the joy she took pleasure in whenever Ron, Harry, Ginny or the twins came along to steal her away for their own shenanigans. Willingly, he let her go. He let her be with people that were her own age, her own generation, as it should be.

Their intimacy hadn't changed an ounce. They still craved each other, still desired one another so much it was almost enough to make another ill. Several late nights, Hermione still found the energy to wow him. She would join him in the shower, or come onto him in his dead sleep or even, just because they could, initiate intimacy right there on their kitchen floor, ignorant should someone step through their Floo.

There hadn't been another office quickie since that one, for she voiced her concern and embarrassment that she was unable to focus for the rest of the day. Because of that, she never allowed him to close the door whenever he came to see her in her office. She received a few attempts, but was adamant about holding her own.

Sirius loved Hermione. He loved her more than he cared to admit and certainly never discussed it that openly with his godson. She was his rock, his reason for life as he'd stated it so many times. Though she never once said anything to make him believe otherwise, he secretly worried if he was holding her back. Nearing forty was looming closer and closer and things were gathering perspective in his future with her. He wanted Hermione to have everything she desired, down to that perfect cookie-cutter family she teased him about. To make such a decision that pained him to admit was absolutely debilitating.

One night that Sirius had come home from having dinner at the pub with Remus, the house remained empty and dark. He illuminated the torches in the foyer and removed his coat, placing it on the rack that stood by the front door already adorned with various coats and scarves. Though the house remained quiet, it settled on its foundation showing its age. In the far distance, he heard the feverish tapping of something on his kitchen window.

Walking through the house, his boots tapping heavily on the wooden floors, he rounded into the kitchen to see a brown and white owl, eagerly awaiting his attention. It was a Ministry owl, defined by its average looking breed, with a message attached to his leg that he swiftly jutted out once Sirius raised the window to let him inside.

It was the second Ministry owl of the night, the first from Hermione telling him that she was going to be working late and to find dinner, where he had retreated to the pub to meet up with Remus. This one was another from her, scribbled quickly and anxiously, it read:

_Sorry, for the second owl. Charlie is home for a week and wanted to meet him for a drink to talk about a new specimen. I love you! xoxo - H_

Reading it quickly, he folded it up and dropped it on the counter. A nervous gut feeling plagued him and he ran a hand through his unruly locks. His mind started to wander for no reason and with no proof, as it was just an overactive imagination. Letting her be her, Sirius shrugged his shoulders in thought and walked over to his liquor cabinet. He took out the bottle of Fire whisky and poured himself a large glass and then retired to the couch to enjoy his drink. With a flick of his wand, he charmed the record player on and listened to the sounds of his youth: The Hobgoblins.

Around eleven o'clock, Hermione arrived to a quiet home. She stepped through the threshold, noting that the hallway lanterns were still lit, which mean that Sirius probably hadn't gone to bed, yet. She hung up her coat and bag and ventured further into the house and towards the kitchen where she rounded on a sprawled out sleeping wizard on the couch.

The record player was stuck on the outside of the record, the needle on a dull scratch, making the room sound eerie and unnatural. She fixed the player and then went over to Sirius, who was passed out on the couch. His boots were kicked off and he was lying stretched out along the cushions with one arm draped over his face, shielding him from the light, but obviously he was too lazy to extinguish the lanterns.

Hermione picked up the empty glass that sat on the floor next to him, giving it a sniff to see what its previous contents were. With a twitchy nose, she deduced it to be Fire whisky and shook her head at the nauseating contents and put the glass in the sink.

Sirius hadn't moved since she came home and as she stood over him, she tilted her head to admire how peaceful he looked. Like a frat boy passed out after a party, he looked oddly comfortable with his limbs everywhere and his hair halfway in his face. She knelt down next to him and ran a hand up under his t-shirt in order to lightly scrape her fingernails over his stomach, hoping he'd rise.

He started to stir and moved his arm from his face, "I hope that's my girlfriend touching me and not some ugly bloke."

"Has this been a problem in the past?" she joked, running her hand higher to feel his tight chest.

"No," he said, finally opening his eyes and pushing his hair out of his face, "but, sometimes I don't trust our lot." He reached out and ran a finger down her face, "I missed you. I'm glad you're home, love."

"Me too. What did you do, while I was gone?"

"Well, I had every intention of getting pissed, but instead I just drank my very large glass of whisky and passed out. So, this is pretty much it. The intriguing life of an Azkaban escapee."

She smiled to him sweetly, leaning over and offering him a kiss, "Well, I find you fascinating." She stood up, taking his hand along with her in order to get him off the couch. They ventured towards the stairs where she went up first. "Charlie says, hi," she chimed, unable to see the bored look Sirius pulled behind her. "He's been working with a new breed, says it can understand English, which is nearly impossible. I mean, you can train a dragon to learn commands in any language, but for the creature to actually comprehend sentences are absolutely amazing."

They went into their bedroom for their nightly routine and as Sirius crawled into bed, he listened as his young witch rambled on about the discoveries she learned that night. Finally, as she was undressing, Sirius held up his hand and interrupted her, "Sweetheart, please don't talk about Charlie when you're getting naked. It's really hard for me to fantasize."

Hermione stopped to listen, holding her bra in her hands and blushing all over her bare skin. She smiled and nodded, going into the bathroom to finish her nightly preparations, leaving him to his thoughts.

That following Friday night, Sirius had made a grand effort of making it a specific date night for the two of them. It was discussed that it was much needed for the both of them and neither one was going to work late, make other plans with friends, accept dinner invitations or say they were too tired to go out. This was a night that Sirius relayed to her that was needed in order to recharge and Hermione appreciated the effort, reminding him of the fact that he did try to be romantic at times.

Around six o'clock that Friday evening, Hermione returned home after a tiring day from work, but she was still very excited about the plans for that evening. She hung up her coat and messenger bag and went up the old creaky stairs to look for her wizard.

As she entered their bedroom, she saw him standing in front of their floor length mirror, rolling the sleeves up on his maroon buttoned shirt that was fitted across his chest like it was tailored perfectly for him. Around his neck, he was wearing the black onyx necklace that Hermione had taken the night she left him back in 1981 and it sent chills over her skin to remember that dark evening. He turned around to greet her, looking dashing and handsome, wearing Levis that fit his slender figure as if they had him in mind. His hair was pulled half back in a black band, lettings wisps frame his face delicately. As his eyes met hers with a dark intent, she almost lost her breath over the vision; she almost believed she was staring at the younger version of him.

Leaning against the doorway, taking in the heavenly sight before her, she sighed to herself and said, "My goodness, you look good." He raised an eyebrow and a slight smile lifted the side of his mouth as he continued to roll up his sleeves. She pushed herself out of the doorway and sauntered over to him, sliding her hands over his taut chest. Her fingers touched the necklace around his neck, "Where did you find this?"

"When I was snooping around in your jewelry box," he cleverly admitted and wrapped his arms around her waist, offering her the most boyish smile. He was tempted to not let her go and changing their plans to just stay in for the night. He knew that it wouldn't take much convincing if he just leaned over and started to nuzzle his favorite spot just under her ear. It was usually the spot that got him whatever he wanted.

She cooed over his flirtations, but ducked out of his advances as she felt herself giving in, "You better let me go and get ready." She playfully evaded his grasp, "I'm onto you, Sirius." He played the innocent as he let her go, holding his hands up to show he wasn't up to anything. With a lasting wink as she opened her wardrobe, Sirius chuckled and left her to get ready.

Downstairs in the kitchen, Sirius was taking down a couple of glasses from the cabinet in order to prepare a bottle of wine he had purchased that afternoon. Uncorking it and letting it breathe, Sirius's thoughts strayed as he thought about the night ahead of them. It was something he was looking forward to and believed it to be very necessary.

Sirius's keen senses could hear Hermione above him in the bedroom they shared in his old house. Knowing the way she moved had become a part of him, like he needed it to breathe and function. She had become a drug to him and to be without her would be unbearable. Her movements were graceful and enchanting and it was no wonder why he was so captivated by her the way he was.

Sirius glanced towards the stairs, hearing her take the wooden steps slowly and carefully, and she emerged wearing a dark purple knees-length tea dress with black shrug. Her hair laid neatly over her shoulders and cascading down her back, spending a little time on her maintenance. Her make-up was refreshed and light, but it wasn't necessary for Sirius. She was just as beautiful without it and as her eyes sparkled for him, it took his breath away, making him feel incredibly inadequate next to this young beauty.

He smiled wide for her as she stepped closer, obviously pleased with his reaction and leaned in to steal a kiss. He greeted her delicately at first, but then gripped her waist in order to pull her in tighter against him, eliciting a slight gasp to escape from her lips. He felt warm and intoxicating, she wondered if he wasn't quietly enchanting her to fall for his charms.

"Alright, one glass and then we're out," he said, pulling away and reaching for the glasses. He seemed to be boyishly giddy about how his night was progressing.

Together, they walked hand in hand along the Thames, relishing the closeness that they hadn't shared in quite a time. Memories of how things used to be flooded Sirius like an old friend coming to greet him once again, as he thought fondly of his first courting of the girl next to him. His heart beat strong for her, confident and ever so lovingly as he felt her lean her head against his shoulder as they watched the lights from oncoming cars travel over the bridge. Their silence was blissful, their small talk just enough and together they felt like the entire world could pass them by and no one would know.

"Do you remember the first time I took you home to McGonagall's house?" Sirius asked, keeping his step in unison with hers as they strolled.

"Of course, because it wasn't that long ago, for me," she remarked, squeezing his hand. "I was a little tipsy-"

"You were drunk," he corrected with a bit of lightness in his voice.

"I may have had too many that you had bought for me, yes," she agreed, trying to improve her state. "But, I do remember that night, because I got to see the way you interacted with James and Remus as a crew. Oh, golly, I wanted you to kiss me that night!"

"Darling, I wouldn't have dared! You tried to hex me, twice, if I recall."

"Did I, yes, I guess I did. Well, I had to be on my guard. This handsome wizard comes by on his motorbike trying to save me from whatever lurked in the shadows and all I was worried about was that my skirt was going to fly up when we rode!"

Sirius chuckled and stopped them so he could look right into her eyes. He traced a finger down her soft cheek and said, "I have some dark nightmares, but I wouldn't trade memories like those for anything in the world."

Hermione smiled, gazing up at him like she was a lovesick teenager all over again. It was sometimes hard to believe that he was there, because of her. He looked so dark and handsome; his perfectly cut jaw line that depicted his somewhat royal bloodline was well defined. Her heart sped up a few beats as he touched her cheek, wondering if someday she would just wake up and have had it been all a dream being with him.

"And I love you more than I can express in words," she merely said, offering him a slight smile as he leaned up to touch his lips with hers.

Sirius heard the chime of Big Ben in the distance, alerting him that it was time for their dinner reservations. With a subtle glance around them, he Apparated the two of them to the Leaky Cauldron where he led her through to Diagon Alley and down the narrow street to a newly opened restaurant. Still holding her hand as he reached for the front door for her, he wondered if he was doing the right thing. For as she passed before him to enter, a wave of anxiety flushed through him like the breaking of a dam with no supports. The tips of his fingers started to tingle and his heart began to beat swiftly as his keen senses appraised the room, surveying their surroundings.

The couple was led to a table tucked along the back and away from prying eyes should anyone recognize him. Infamy had its drawbacks, especially when you were trying to seduce your lady. The room around them was quaint, but a lot bigger than the outside let on: wizard establishment. The style was classy and sophisticated, charming, yet elegant and Hermione looked like a princess in a throne as she took her seat held out by the waiter.

After a few minutes of glancing at the menu, the two of them started with a glass of wine to accompany their salads. Across the restaurant, a solo violinist could be heard serenading guests enjoying their meal, enchanting nearby guests to feel relaxed and at peace. For Sirius, he was already at peace with his company, meeting her glances every now and then between bites, making him feel incredibly desired and necessary to her.

In between the salads and the refreshed wine, Hermione excused herself to the ladies room, but not without requesting a kiss as she passed him, leaving him to his thoughts. His thoughts left him anxious and unsure, for there was a specific reason that Sirius was "snooping through her jewelry box" as he answered earlier. As he shifted in his seat, he had a hard reminder of what was in his pocket. He needed to know her size.

Feeling like he had a few minutes to collect his thoughts, Sirius glanced behind him to make sure she was out of sight. He reached into his into his pocket and pulled out a small antique box with gold branding. He painfully opened the lid and allowed his eyes to fall on the ring. It was glistened beautifully in the candle light and was probably something larger than she would normally wear, but when he saw it, he immediately thought of her. Something aged and elegant, something mature and not new, but absolutely gorgeous once it sat on her finger.

Deep down, his pulse started to quicken once again. He had done a lot of thinking these last few weeks and he had to evaluate what their life was lacking and what they needed in order to move on to the next step. He remembered her painful words, but they never settled into him as a reality. Making himself believe what was necessary took a lot of convincing and the answer was crystal clear. He closed the lid of the small box and slid it back into his pocket.

A few moments later, Hermione returned and sat down in her chair across from Sirius and lifted her wine glass to her lips, meeting his eyes and gazing romantically into them. There he appraised his young mistress again; so pretty, so gentle, so innocent (well, mostly) and still holding an entire life ahead of her. As much as he loved her, truly loved her, and wanted her to never be away from him after waiting for her for so long, he wasn't sure if he could do it. If he asked her to marry him, she would be trapped. He would be holding her back and she would be missing out on so much she desired in life. She didn't deserve to be tied to a man that had lived almost two lifetimes. His lifeline was long and because of her, it had been extended. He owed her everything and she owed him nothing Life with her had been a dream, something he never deserved and nothing he ever believed would come back to him.

His youth had been tragic for being slung into Azkaban, but before then, he had a different plan in mind. It included this mysterious girl that could be found at the bookstore Remus worked at, playing hard to get. He remembered waiting outside on the bench, hoping that she would take his offer to join him and by the grace of some of the Gods, she did. This intelligent pretty witch told him she was not like the others had managed somehow to lure him and he was smitten. He fell in love with her fast, too fast and as he grew out of his twenties and ventured into his thirties, his thoughts always fell to her.

Which is why now, as he sat enjoying his dinner with that very same witch, did he believe that he was making the wrong decision. He owed it to her to make sure that she had what she wanted, when she wanted and how she wanted. Her happiness meant a big sacrifice for Sirius and in time, she would see it the way he did, even if she chose to resent him in the end.


	10. What Almost Was

_A note from Serade Black: __Ah, well, I am now in motherhood and sadly my story is falling behind. My muse has gone off for a bit with this one, but never fear, I shall finish! I want to personally thank those that have left reviews, favorited me and messaged me. Your praise, I'll be honest, helps me keep writing fanficiton goodness! Until then... ~S_

Chapter 10

"What Almost Was"

The tinkering atmospheric sounds of the restaurant carried on. Glasses clinked together as toasts were made, small chatter accompanied nearby neighbors and servers flew by delivering hot entrees with a particular flourish one would believe them to be part of a show, rather than a wait staff.

The couple enjoyed each other's company as they savored their last sips of wine over dessert. As they made small talk discussing work, friends and what particularly pleased them about the renovations of their home, Sirius's thoughts strayed to the jewelry box in his pocket. He imagined the piece within the old box that lay amongst the velvet surroundings. A piece that represented commitment and devotion; a life long obligation to love, cherish, and obey. It was almost like a form of slavery and he didn't think she deserved that sort of sacrament for him. He loved her dearly, he owed her his life, but her happiness meant more to him than anything in the world.

The unconventional pair stood up to vacate the restaurant, noticing the light sweep of whispers and onlookers as they walked by. Being a celebrity, even an ex-convict, didn't always have its fit for glamour and it was important that Sirius escort Hermione out, before anyone asked him for an autograph. Although used to the attention, he didn't want to be harassed that evening and without a second thought, took his witch's hand protectively.

The narrow street of Diagon Alley was quiet, without many out and about. The few stragglers walked along the cobblestone as they picked up last minute packages from closing stores or continued on to the Leaky Cauldron for an after meal pint. They passed by the quidditch shop and in the window was the newest model of the Firebolt, official broom of the National Quidditch League. Also in the window of the closed shop was a framed portrait of Viktor Krum grimacing at the viewer, his arms folded across his chest with a bored and angry look displayed over his face. He was older now, more mature and had filled out from the boy he was when Hermione knew him.

"Was he good to you?" Sirius asked, noticing how she grinned ever so slightly at the portrait in the window.

"I was fourteen. He was nice to me. What could I compare it to?" she said, as if what he was asking was absurd.

"Still, I read the papers-"

"The papers often lie!" she was quick to cut off, offering him a slight glance.

"I'm just asking, that's all," he said in an innocent tone. "I read Harry's letters about you two as well, so I just thought I'd check."

"He was friendly. I learned a lot from him, in fact," she amended as they turned to finish their walk towards the Leaky Cauldron.

"First love?"

"I guess you could say all that," she began. "I mean, I was fourteen. My idea of love now is much different than what it was back then."

"Right," he nodded, approaching the brick wall to cross over into the pub alleyway. He gave her hand an extra squeeze as he Apparated them to Saint James's Park in order to continue their stroll.

Appreciating the solitude and the intimate moments between them, Hermione hugged his arm and rested her head against his shoulder. Imagining them to be away in a dream-like world like two star-crossed lovers finally coming together, Hermione closed her eyes as they walked in tandem. Feeling the warmth settled in the lower regions of her heart, she felt full. Like the aura that surrounded them was thick like fog, acting like a magical fortress no one could knock down.

With the hour so late, they passed by a few slumbering ducks that ruffled their feathers as the inconsiderate humans interrupted their sleep, but then they hid their heads and swiftly returned to sleep.

The moon was bright overhead and the sky was clear enough to see some sneaking stars against the midnight. Sirius steered them towards a bench that faced the pond, resting his arm behind Hermione's shoulders as she leaned against the length of his body. Her hand rested on his leg as she turned her body towards his.

Upon the pond before them, a couple of ducks passed as if they were on night patrol. They quietly moved along, barely breaking a wake in the water and continued on as if not noticing late night company. Neighborhood sounds could be heard in the distance, but only because they were in a city just calming down for the night. Somewhere along the park fence, late night pub dwellers sung way off key.

Hermione sighed, taking in the scent of his cologne and welcoming the sounds of tranquility around them. With a slight smile over her lips, she was content and happy to be where she was at that very moment with him. "This was a nice night," she said quietly glancing up at the stars. "Thank you for going to all this trouble."

"Wasn't any trouble, love. I just thought we needed a nice night out where I could have you all to myself."

"You do have me all to yourself, Sirius," she confirmed, looking into the eyes of her handsome older wizard. There was no doubt in her voice as she spoke the truth.

Sirius sighed slightly and curled a lock of her hair between his fingers, "I just meant that you've been so preoccupied at work." He pressed a kiss to her temple. "I feel I barely get to see you."

"Well, that is true," she said, turning away to watch another set of ducks on patrol glide across the water without a sound, "I am swamped at work, but at least I have you to come home to."

Her words comforted him and he took the liberty of admiring her in the moonlight; like something of a dream to him. A dream he wished for many years, never believing she would ever return to a man that had been holed up in a dingy prison to reach insanity. Having her back in his life was more than he could ask and all he wanted, but all he wanted was for her to smile and be happy.

The sound of her voice blessed his ears as she nearly whispered, "You're something I never want to miss out on."

Meeting her intense gaze, he kissed her forbidden lips with the vow to never look back. The moment was there, if he was looking for one. The silence around them, save for the sounds of nature tucking in for the night, gave him the opportune time to...

The seconds ticked away, feeling like eternity had stolen their innocence, but they remained alone together on the bench in the park. Lewd thoughts of public copulation crossed the wizard's mind, but dignity saved him as he protected her virtue.

"I love you," she whispered as her fingers brushed the locks out of his sightline, savoring him like he was her own private doll.

His emotions were beginning to get the best of him, so he said nothing. He didn't need to. He merely held her tight and let her exist in his world.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The shadows let in from the outside street light danced on the ceiling of the master bedroom of number twenty-four. The aging house creaked as it settled on its foundation and the portraits downstairs had long since fallen asleep in their frames with the promise of another day.

Sirius watched the shadows dance as the light crept in from the windows of the room, taking in account that their shapes might help guide him on his decision making path. Though it made no difference, his thoughts reflected on his missed proposal of the night, only having it end with a rather serene episode there in the park.

There was no reason why he needed anything more from the angelic creature that slumbered next to him, for having her devotion was almost a burden in itself. As he glanced over, he marveled at the way her rose-colored lips looked so delicious and how her wavy locks spilled over the pillows like a majestic princess. Her soft skin called to him as he held back the urge to run a hand down her cheek. She slept peacefully like an angel in his dreams he so longed for.

He was so in love with her.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

In the morning, Hermione awoke in a lonely bed with the sheets next to her abandoned and cold. Left in the bathroom was a note from Sirius telling her that he had stepped out to meet Harry early that morning and would return before noon.

Missing the morning coupling, Hermione went about her routine and dressed to go off to the shop for a few items she needed for dinner that evening. She vowed not to take long and hoped that she return before Sirius did, even knowing that trips to see Harry were never short for Sirius.

Down the friendly street that Hermione had called home for a few months, she hitched her bag further on her shoulder. Walking at a brisk pace, she glanced down at her footsteps, careful not to step on any cracks in the sidewalk. Humming a light tune to herself, her mind was in a good place. She had enjoyed her prior evening and though her work load was high these days, she would always find time to stop and smell the roses.

Number twenty-four was easy for her to see now. Mostly hidden from muggles, or anyone for that matter, the house remained well concealed by tamed plants and controlled vines winding their way into the iron gates. With a gentle tap of her wand, the lock released and allowed its younger occupant through the threshold. Parked alongside the house, Sirius's motorcycle awaited its owner like a loyal steed outside a saloon.

Hermione pushed through the front door, dropping her purse on a nearby table. The house was silent, but she knew he was home.

"I'm home! Sirius?" she called through the house. Her voice echoed down the long hallway as she walked, carrying her knapsack like a heavy grocery bag. "There you are, handsome." She rounded the corner and saw him sitting on the couch, the television turned off and looking like he was waiting for something. "I'm starving. I've got things for dinner, but do you want to go down to the pub for a bite?"

Sirius remained on the couch, his eyes glancing to hers, offering her a half friendly smile, hands folding and unfolding in front of him, well distracted by the plan in his mind. With another glance, he watched as she leaned over her knapsack to empty it of items she had purchased to put into the refrigerator and pantry. She danced around with light feet, moving freely as if she were spinning on air. Her gorgeous brown curls bounced around her back as her bangs were cleared from view, tethered by a barrette. Her pretty profile was enough to make his heart pound as he imagined kissing her for the first time when he was her age now.

"Hermione, I need you to sit down here for a minute," he said, standing up and offering her either side of the couch. He swallowed nervously.

"Alright, but why?" she asked as she closed the refrigerator door and walked around the counter that separated them. "What's wrong, Sirius?"

Sirius did not sit down on the couch with her like he normally would. He would usually take any and every opportunity to touch her skin, kiss her cheek, or pet her hair if he was close enough, but this time as he stood before her, he kept clear of his normal habits.

"Sirius?" she asked again, with a slight tilt of her head.

"Hermione," he began; his feet solid on the ground and not pacing like he had expected, "I love you."

She immediately sucked in her breath, her heart skipping at least three beats before she figured out what he was about to do. It came out of nowhere, but all the signs were there: fidgeting slightly, fingers touching his pockets from time to time, avoiding eye contact. Rather than meeting her eyes, he looked all around her. His voice sounded weak and unconfident. She was elated.

"Me too," she said quietly, winking flirty for him like the way he always did for her. She was going to do anything to make this easy for him; her answer already prepared, of course.

"Please, just let me talk and then you can say whatever you want."

She nodded obediently and folded her hands in her lap perfectly. With a light shrug to throw her hair behind her shoulder, she poised herself to answer him.

With a deep breath, he began, "I've done some thinking." His insides were turning, he was generally nauseous, but he had to go through with this, no matter what she said, "and I've come to the conclusion we..."

"Yes?" she asked; her eyes wide and bright.

"-are not right."

Frozen and not breathing, Hermione barked, "What?"

He had pulled the band-aid. "It's not healthy, what we're doing. It's taken some time to realize and I knew that eventually we might come to this, but it's clear that I cannot do what you want me to."

"Sirius-"

"You can have the house. I'm going away for awhile. A long while, if I can."

"Sirius, stop-" she stood abruptly.

"You need a life that I cannot give to you, Hermione. I want you to have everything."

"I don't want anything, if I can't have you!" Her voice was firm, louder and trying to meet his eye line. She felt as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice water down her back; her stomach was tying itself in knots and any minute she felt as if she would retch. "Stop staying such things, right now!"

"It's true, love," he quickly quipped. It pained him to move out of reach as she outstretched her arms towards him. As if what he was doing wasn't hard enough, he felt a swift pang in his heart to see the pain in her eyes once he resisted her touch.

"Sirius?" she asked again, letting out a nervous laugh as if hoping that all this pretending was just something of a cruel joke.

The sound of her quiet voice nearly cracking as she practically whispered his name made him close his eyes tight and try to refrain from showing any kind of emotion towards her. He had to be strong, like a rock wall unable to be torn down. He was doing this for her sake, but she kept saying his name as if asking a question, as if asking if all of this wasn't real.

"Please," he begged quietly with a hitch in his throat. "Just let me do this, for you."

The cut went deeper as he separated himself from the one thing that kept him going all through his incarceration. His beacon, his shining star, his hope. He was severing his intimate ties with her, wishing her a better life than what she would have had with him.

"What," she started to ask, desperately trying to hold back her intended volume. "What is it exactly that you're doing for _me_, Sirius? Leaving me? After all we've been through? After all we've said to each other?" She stood strong, stiff, biting her lip between breaths to muster the courage to speak clearly without losing herself, but she still sounded desperate and overwhelmed.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, looking down at the carpet between them. He felt a coward deep inside, but he knew what he was doing was to be the bravest decision he could make in his fragile life.

"I thought you'd never let me go, Sirius. I thought-"

"Things change, love," he cut her off, raising his voice from a whisper to more of a curt tone. "I can't give you what you want, but...but, Charlie can."

"CHARLIE?" she asked excited and breathless. Her voice was strained, nearly hoarse from speaking so quickly. "Did you fall off your motorbike? I don't want, Charlie! I want you, all of you, whatever you can give me. If you don't want to get married, fine! We will stay the way we are and I'll be happy. If you don't want children...then I'll have to accept that and love on Harry and Ron's children. Just don't do this."

After a brief moment to allow her words to sink in, he read the honesty in her eyes. Managing a forced side smirk, he reached out to cradle her chin in his hand, "Sweetheart, you're lying." He was almost immediately calm for her, as if touching her chin would sate him momentarily until he could manage to walk out the front door. "I know what you really want and everything you just mentioned...is the answer."

"I don't want, Charlie," she said quietly, her lips practically quivering. His touch on her skin was heaven.

"Charlie can give you a better life. A life with children, with a career, with...time."

"I can't believe you're saying this. You waited for me all those years, you were there when I came back, you said I was your reason for life and now you're just leaving? What's going on?"

Hearing the truth did not make the situation any easier, for everything she said was the absolute truth. He did wait for her to grow up and then, only then, did he have to see if she would still want him. She did and as he watched her carry the strength from within not to fall to pieces in his hand, he knew she still did. Only now, reality had set in and he couldn't anchor her to him, no matter how much it pained him to let his beloved, the love of his life, go.

As their eyes met, much like they did the day she returned from the past, he considered briefly going back on his word and being as selfish as one could. But, as he pulled away his hand, he turned away from her and said under his breath, "It has to be like this."

Hermione had reached her breaking point and the tears cascaded down her cheeks slowly at first, but then rushing like a final brick in a dam giving way. Realizing that he was literally drifting away from her and making his way to the hallway and towards the door, she followed closely behind him, mustering up a loud enough voice for him to hear her.

Shaking her head and letting her mane go wild, she said, "No it doesn't, Sirius! Please! Where are you going?" Her shoes were loud on the creaking wood floor, baring the anger of the desperate footsteps. "Where can I find you? What if I need you?"

Shrugging on his jacket and forbidding himself to look at her, he replied, "Harry will always know where I am. He will contact me for his wedding. But, you won't need to find me, Hermione."

Her lower lip quivered again, watching the love of her life fix his collar and preparing to cast her off as if she were a mistake. Her insides were slowly churning into a burning fire, soaking up the nausea that barely kept her sane. The emotions were beginning to overwhelm her; her heart felt heavy like someone had manipulated it to force itself down further into the pit of her stomach.

With her tears a constant stream, she balled her fists in anger, "Sirius, I will always need to find you. There's no reason for this." Then, as if she were scolding a child, she barked, "This is selfish, immature, irresponsible and just plain unnecessary. What did I do-"

Finally, he had met his end and turned around on her, stopping her from finishing her question. He pulled her face to his; absorbing her aura one last time with a deep, strong kiss. His lips against hers elicited a fire from within that he knew was dangerous to play with at that moment. It was almost cruel. He was letting her go, he was saying good-bye, but he wasn't going to let her believe that she was the reason for this.

He tasted her sweet lips for the last time, savoring their softness and sultry bite as he nipped her delicately, but forcefully. The passion in his loins protested the tearing separation as he practically ripped her away from him, holding her forehead to his and panting softly as if it were their dying moment together.

"You did nothing, my love," he said breathless and painfully. Opening his eyes to meet hers, he continued, "You've never done anything to not make me feel worthy. I am not selfish. Quite the opposite, because I'm leaving for your own good. I want you to have a life with someone that is good for all the things you hold dear to your heart. Someone more...like you."

Hermione licked her lips of his taste, squeezing her eyes shut, so as to clear the tears, "You mean someone more my age." His true words finally rang clear to explain his actions.

Sirius swallowed hard as she nailed it directly on the head. The very words he was afraid to speak fell from her lips as if she were whispering footnotes. He sniffed and nodded slightly, feeling the pit of his stomach fill with guilt. "Yes, love," he began calmly, "someone more your age that has more time to offer you. You don't need to marry a man who is in his forties."

"You're wrong," she sobbed, shaking her head just slightly, reaching up to run her fingers through a stray curl that hung along the side of his face, "you're only thirty-nine. The Veil froze your years."

With a subtle side smirk he gave her a single nod, pulling away from her, "I know, but that still doesn't make it right."

Reaching for his arm, she pleaded, "I don't care, Sirius. I've never cared."

For a second, he thought about retracting everything based on her one sentence, but his mind was forced to follow through. This was about her, not him. This was about her being let go, to be free and to find someone closer to her own age that could grow with her, not against her. Though his life blood pumped through his veins only for her, he still could not keep her. It wasn't about not wanting to get married or to have children, it's just that a drastic change like that might throw them off-balance and break up their serene life they kept of long night talks, wine and love-making on the kitchen floor whenever they felt like it. She made him young again, careless and free, as long as it was with her. His life was almost to the middle and hers was only just starting.

"Sirius, you're breaking my heart," she said quietly to herself, but enough for him to hear.

"You'll mend fine. I, on the other hand, will not."

She snapped her head up, "Then why-"

"Don't," he hushed, shaking his head. "Just don't say anything." She looked up at him stunned, hurt and holding her emotions together as much as she could. No matter what he said, no matter how he thought of her, he still thought she was the prettiest thing he'd ever seen and his heart ached for her. "Good-bye, Hermione," he said with a sad voice. He leaned closer and kissed her forehead, letting his cheek fall against her as he closed his eyes in mental pain.

Sirius let himself out of the house, shutting the heavy door behind him, leaving her standing in the foyer without another word. His motorbike could be heard revving up outside and with a loud kick of the stand it was propped up on, the contraption murmured its departure and the sound of the engine graduated to a faint lull in the distance.

Still standing like a statue, Hermione reached out to the open space before her, not accepting that his departure was real. The air in front of her felt cool and empty, motionless and stagnant. The heaviness of her heart started to weigh down on her and as she searched blindly with an outstretched hand, knowing that he wasn't there and making contact with the wooden door he stepped out of.

Her heart was broken and the faint scent of his cologne lingered all around her, drilling into her his hastened departure. Like a switch had turned on inside of her chest, her face crinkled with sorrow allowing the rest of her to follow suit with the pain that flushed throughout. It twisted in small knots, making her head fuzzy and unbalanced. Falling against the door with a dull thud, she nearly let her body slide down to the floor in a broken heap, before mustering up some energy to challenge the stairs.

One by one, she carried herself upwards, needing to lie down and pray that the nightmare had all happened while she was asleep and with a proper rousing, she would awaken to Sirius still sleeping beside her. She prayed to the Gods that she would wake up, but in order to wake up, she had to make it to her bedroom. One step after the other, she slowly worked herself up and down the hallway to her bedroom.

As she passed over the threshold, his scent filled her senses and she was hit with a wave of memories that weakened her further. Holding onto the wall for support, believing that all the strength in her body had drained below the ability to function, she made her way over to the bed to sit on the end. She sat in her own silence, her tears streaming down her cheeks with hiccups occasionally surfacing. She felt beaten and worn; her heart lost. Everything in her world was surreal.

Across from where she sat was the vanity mirror and looking back at her was the reflection of someone drained and abandoned; someone whose entire world was just closed in on. Allowing herself a healthy lonely sob, her eyes fell on a small box that lay on her vanity next to her personal jewelry box. It was something she didn't recognize and therefore, believed that it didn't belong to her. It was a small box, like a ring box. Sad, but curious, she slowly stood and took the few steps to her vanity table walking with the life of a zombie.

The box was simple, but very detailed. She furrowed her brow as she picked it up in her hands. Very carefully, she unlatched its clasp and opened it to see its contents. There before her was a beautiful antique engagement ring.

Sirius _was _going to ask her to marry him.


	11. The Pain Sinks In

_A note from Serade Black: Thank you to all of those that have reviewed and sent me messages to continue. I will and I am. Though I've discovered another fandom (those May/December relationships get me every time), this is my passion. This story will continue, along with another one I've already started. Enjoy! ~SB_

Ch. 11 - "The Pain Sinks In"

All good things must come to an end, _they _say. Well, _they _obviously have never had their heart ripped through their chest, leaving an open gaping wound so deep you wonder if it will ever subside enough to heal. The kind of feeling that makes your mind fuzzy, wondering what went wrong in your choices to bring you to the mental pain it's feeling now. How the stomach churns, knowing that someday you will feel normal once again, but for right now, it's agony to feel so lost and empty.

This was Hermione. This was the brave girl who stood by Harry's side and faced death. This was the woman who ventured back to another time to bring the best out of someone, ultimately changing the timeline of their future forever. But, this was still the same broken person who felt like the sky had fallen on top of her, never allowing another breath of fresh air to fill her lungs and come to.

Sleep had taken Hermione for nearly three complete days. Mustering enough energy to use the bathroom or eat a cracker, slumber had called to her like a comforting old friend. She was emotionally drained and mentally lost; feeling the fresh wounds of a break-up surfacing again, the moment she opened her eyes and saw light peeking through the curtains. She sent owls out to the Ministry to excuse herself from work. She preferred to let time do the healing, because it was known that allowing said time to pass would make the brunt of life without Sirius come easier. Of course, as she lay in the bed they had shared, time couldn't come fast enough. Buried deep within dark soft sheets and an endless amount of pillows that hugged her every nook, his haunting scent still lingered around her as if he'd just left her for the day.

Several times she'd awoken in tears, believing that she had just missed him. She had the sinking feeling that he may have come back, but that she had slept through his return unknowingly. None of that had been true, for her imagination was playing cruel games with her sanity and it was barely enough to stay awake for and so she slept.

By the fourth day of allowing herself to feel a numbness that seemed to be the beginning of the proper healing process, Remus came round to look in on her. He was hoping to give her some space, but when he'd dropped in on her office at the Ministry and was informed of her absence, he insisted that a visit was in order.

He found the house quiet, settled and undisturbed. It was good that Hermione hadn't taken out her anger on their person effects they had shared together. Then again, Hermione was never the violent sort. He ventured up the stairs of the silent house; his footsteps creaking upon each stair he met. He found her tangled within the comforter and sheets of the large bed. The shades and curtains were drawn, creating a cave-like ambiance, hiding her away from the rest of the living world. Her hair was messy and he was sure she was still in the same pajamas she'd worn since the night she first hibernated.

He quietly sighed upon seeing the saddened state and turned on his proper "Professor" voice, "Depression is a cruel monster, Hermione." He walked towards the windows, pulling back the heavy curtains to wash the room with light. There mound on the mattress stirred and groaned its displeasure. "I forbid this to happen to you, my dear. Certainly not over a wizard and most definitely, not over Sirius."

Very slowly a hand reached out from beneath the bedcovers like the dead rising from beneath the earth of a fresh grave. With a slight sob, she whispered, "Remus, I loved him."

"I know you do," he replied as he leaned over and picked up some clothes off the floor and laid them on a nearby chair. "I know he loves you."

"Then, why-" she began, but was immediately cut off.

"That I cannot answer," he said quickly in his former Professor's voice, as if he was teaching a lesson. He wanted to say more for his heart broke at the sight of her, but there was nothing he could say at that moment to improve her thought process. So, he turned to a common ground, "But, for now, let us start with a cup of tea."

In the kitchen, the ticking of the clock reverberated off the walls like a hammer. So sensitive to sound as the realistic silence was blaring, it was as if she was able to actually hear time passing by. It only made her heart feel heavier as she sat at the breakfast nook by the window in the kitchen; meager sunlight her nemesis.

Sitting quietly, her hands were folded on the table before her, slowly drumming her fingers together. A balled up tissue lay in front of her, dampened by the occasional bought of tears. Her tea steamed in front of her, the spoon still twirling within the ceramic cup. Though the warm contents soothed her throat and filled her belly, she preferred to retreat to the confines of her dark plushy cave upstairs.

Remus sat across from her; his eyes never moving from his young friend. He was seething inside, but did not show it. He had just sat through the very brief tale of his best friend's dramatic ending to their relationship and sat stunned and bewildered, without any answers to offer.

"I don't know why," Remus said, shaking his head. "I do not know what got into his head."

"It's my fault. Because of me, he's gone away from you, Harry, the Order, everything," Hermione whispered with a guilty heart. She closed her eyes, letting a fresh stream of tears cascade down her cheek and drip to the wooden table before her.

"It's not your fault, so stop that now. Sometimes he does things I cannot explain. Sometimes he has a plan for good things in store."

She shook her head, "No, Remus. Nothing good can come of this, unless he comes back." Her insides remained empty, still knotting where she sat.

"It's hard to see it that way, right now, I know." Remus was nearly at a loss for words, but added, "I truly don't want to add to your sadness by saying anything overtly cliché'."

Hermione's lips turned into a slight smile, her brown eyes looked up, "I appreciate that."

Their silence was interrupted by light tapping against the window just off the kitchen. A gorgeous black owl waited patiently to be let in; a small scroll with a gold ribbon was tied to its leg.

Hermione stood up with a shot, practically pushing Remus out of the way as her eyes set on the owl that rested at her window. "It's from Sirius! It's from him!" She frantically fumbled with the window locks like a person under extreme duress, secretly believing that all the answers of his true departure would be in this letter. She reached for the letter, nearly yanking the bird's leg out of its socket, but with a quick nip, Hermione regained a bit of composure.

Remus watched it happen quickly: Hermione reaching with great haste for the letter, only to glance at it and watch her entire demeanor fall into an even further sadder state. He watched as her shoulders fell, her hands tense and new tears fall down her cheek. His eyes met hers as she looked up with an absolutely tortured pain behind them.

"It's for you," she managed to whisper out like it was her last breath on the brink of a thorough cry. She held out the letter weakly, waiting for Remus to come to her to get it as she crumbled to the cold unforgiving floor.

Remus stood from his chair and took the letter out of her dropped hand, as if taking it away from her might at least lighten the burden of the constant reminder that the love of her life was gone. A piece of him just wanted to put it in his lapel jacket, but he knew she wanted to at least watch him read his words in the hopes that something might have been said about Hermione.

"Please read it, Remus," she said quietly, her eyes drifting to the floor.

Feeling somewhat guilty, Remus removed the letter from his inside pocket and took his seat at the table, leaving Hermione to her thoughts there sitting on the floor. He untied the gold ribbon and opened the scroll. The letter wasn't long.

_Moony,_

_You're probably well aware of my departure. I'm sorry I wasn't able to see you before I left, but it was somewhat sudden. Please know that in the past, I may have been selfish, but I will confess that this is probably the most selfless thing I've ever done. I imagine the pain I'm feeling can only be compared to one whose soul is being split and I am in agony. _

_I miss Hermione, but I love her enough to let her go. She deserves a chance and deserves a real life with someone more "like her". I wish it were only a few years like you and Tonks, but then again, I haven't been the lucky one lately._

_Please watch over her while I'm away. I'll check in with you and the boy to know where I am, but please don't let her come after me. I need her to move on. I need her to be wonderful, but I need her to be happy._

_Thank you for understanding,_

_Padfoot_

_P.S. Please tell Hermione, she is my everything._

Remus looked away from the parchment in his best friend's handwriting to the broken girl whose light had obviously gone out. He knew that telling her Sirius was thinking of her probably wouldn't have changed the situation. So, without a further word, he folded up the letter and tucked it into the pocket of his coat.

O0O0O0O0O

Her inner monologue seemed to drone on, reminding her of all the things she could have done differently, of all the things that could have been and mostly, all the things she could have changed about her way of thinking that might have kept him with her. It was her fault and with that, she sunk herself into her own private prison. But, prison was not always made of four walls, but sometimes of the mental capacity and because of that, everywhere she looked she thought she saw his face.

In a lighter note, part of her conscience believed he may have been watching over her. Maybe he wasn't as far away as she thought, but as she passed by a store window and glanced over her shoulder towards the shadow of a dark man, she knew that her mind was only playing jokes on her. She knew that the brunette man standing inside the crepe shop was not her Sirius, but an average muggle man that had black hair. He was everywhere, and nowhere. She knew that Sirius was true to his word and had traveled far from London, out of England perhaps, to stay away from her, for he did not want her to see him. Maybe someday, years from now, he will come back to England. Perhaps someday, when they were both much older and moved on with their lives, they could be civil together at holiday gatherings with Harry.

She was only fooling herself right now; those thoughts could not be considered. Not when the very thought of it was making her nauseous. The very idea of them in the long future without the other broke the remaining shattered pieces of her heart, keeping that empty feeling lurking within her. She felt out of balance, alone and frightened that even as an independent witch she couldn't help but want some sort of desired company.

The Leaky Cauldron came into view and Hermione shoved her hands deep into the pockets of her baby blue hoodie. She pulled the heavy wooden door hard and let herself in, paying very little attention to anyone that was enjoying a drink or lunch that afternoon. She wasn't in the mood for small talk, for she only had one mission at the moment.

Though she only had eyes for the back door of the pub, she managed a friendly wave from Tom the barkeep. Glancing to her right as she weaved around loose chairs from nearby tables, a man caught her peripheral sitting at a booth against the wall. Looking like all the many faces she mistook, she noticed he appeared to be in his late twenties and sipping on a glass of amber liquid. He wore a dark colored hat and his cloak was clasped tight around his shoulders. She met his eyes only for a second, but it was a second too long for her feet stopped in mid stride and her body froze. He reminded her of Sirius, but only in the color of his hair and pale face. He wasn't as handsome as Sirius, for to her, Sirius was just a beautiful being and this man held no comparison. She realized she had watched him for three seconds too long and if she wasn't going to offer a greeting, she needed to nudge herself away and go to the back alley door.

Her knees managed not to buckle and something within her moved her forward towards the door. She didn't look back, already fearful that she had probably sent the wrong signal to the stranger. Thinking nothing more of it, other than feeling like a complete nutter, she tapped the right bricks in the wall before her ad pushed on through to Diagon Alley.

Outside the tall tilting building of Gringotts, a short little goblin in an official uniform stood guard. With a face showing displeasure that he was forced to mingle with the wizards, he reached for the door as he watched Hermione approach the bank. Once inside, she kept her head low and her eyes on the floor tiles ahead of her. She joined the queue and waited behind a couple others that were waiting to deal with their accounts.

Though it was thrown out of proportion, she felt like all sets of eyes in the building were on her. She thought back on the moment with the stranger, but tried to overcome any further thinking regarding him. There was just something almost familiar about the stranger. One thing was certain: she knew he wasn't Sirius.

"Next?" the voice called down to the front of the queue again from behind bars of metal and marble. He apparently had said it at least three times now.

Hermione shook her head, trying to shake her mind of playing any more tricks on her. Her sanity depended on it and though she might have thought herself to be going insane, it was just the sheer delusions caused by a break-up. The sickening feeling started to resurface.

"Hello, I'd like a withdrawal of fifty galleons please and a balance," she said in a feeble voice, trying not to look around and get her mind in trouble.

The goblin nodded and took her account card. He withdrew the requested amount, sliding the money through the little portal between them, as well as a piece of parchment that he wrote some numbers down on it. Hermione took the money and slid it into her bag. She went to turn away, when her eyes slid down the paper to the rather large, larger than normal, balance that she apparently had in her account.

Before the goblin had a chance to call the next person in the queue over, she returned to the goblin and knocked on the counter to get his attention, "I'm sorry, please double check this again. There must be some error on the account."

"Number two twenty-four? Granger?" the goblin repeated, taking out his wand and dividing left over coins away next to him. He appeared rather bored and irritated by her second guessing.

"Yes, sir," she nodded, sliding the paper back to him so that he could write the new balance down. "Please, I'm just trying to be honest, but my account wasn't that high a month ago and I know I haven't received any bonuses at the Ministry."

"There was a rather large deposit made into the account about two weeks ago. Sirius Black transferred half a million galleons from his account, into yours."

"What? No! Can it be transferred back, that's not my money, that's his!" Hermione insisted, tapping her hand nervously on the counter. Panic spread over her face like a mask, not wanting him to take such measures.

"He instructed us not to should any of his transfers be questioned. He was adamant about keeping his account locked only to him to avoid such requests. By the looks of Mr. Black's account, Miss Granger, it appears that making the transfer back, even if we could, would be such a small amount I doubt he'd even notice." The goblin glanced down at Hermione after checking his records, waiting for her to leave his window. Too many questions made him uneasy.

"But, that's...that's...oh, that's not fair! Really, there is no way I can give it back?"

"Not unless you give it to him in person."

"Well, that's not going to happen," she grumbled, taking her parchment back and crinkling it up in her hand while shoving it into her bag.

"Then, I bid you good day, Miss Granger." The goblin was quick to shoo her away, ready to move on with the next person in queue.

Hermione felt the butterflies in her stomach begin to unsettle again. They flew within wildly, unrestrained and unknowing and pretty soon, she was glancing around her to look for a ladies' room of some nature.

_Damn you, Sirius. I can take are of myself._

She made it to the loo with barely seconds to spare before her nerves finally let go. She gripped the sides of the toilet as her knees knelt down on the cold marble beneath her. She felt dizzy and light headed, wondering if she would ever feel right again. Her heart had been crushed, torn and there she was allowing a normal break-up to get the better of her physically. Enough so, she believed another wave was about to wash over and she remained in the women's loo for another fifteen minutes before the nausea subsided.

The day was overcast and anything but cheery. When she stepped back out onto the sidewalk of Diagon Alley, witches and wizards were running about doing their normal shopping and just watching them made her feel a bit shaky. She headed towards a small cafe, hoping to get a tea and perhaps something sweet in order to settle her.

A little bell chimed when she stepped inside the old shop. It was well decorated in turn of the century decor, complete with old fashioned ice cream machine (surely charmed to work and never repaired). She walked up to the counter, taking no notice to who was around her and ordered her tea and scone. She paid for it, taking out a few knuts from her hand bag; her fingers brushing passed the piece of paper with the written balance on it. She bit her lip as her eyes began to water over the idea that he had left her with so much money, making her feel weak and cast aside, even bought off.

Hermione was quick to leave the little shop and turned around to push open the door with her shoulder. While spinning around, she gently bumped into someone that obviously wasn't paying attention to where they were going, either.

She stopped abruptly, saving her scone and not spilling her tea on the person she had accosted, "I'm so sorry."

The stranger caught himself before their bump together was harder than it could have been. He apologized as well, bracing the door so as not to get hit again. "My fault, truly."

"Nonsense-" she said, meeting his face and freezing immediately. She was looking into the eyes of the stranger she'd seen in the pub who was sipping a drink in the corner of the Leaky Cauldron. He didn't look as threatening in the daylight compared to when he was beneath the shadows. Still, there was something strangely familiar about him when she saw him up close. Realizing she had stared at him for too long without saying anything, she shook herself back awake, "Sorry, I should have looked where I was going."

The man was somewhat handsome when not hidden by the shadows and his face no longer looked as menacing. He appeared to be in his mid-twenties, normal build, black wavy hair and green eyes. Her heart skipped a single beat that he reminded her a bit of Sirius, but without the kind face and wide open smile. This man appeared to hold his guard a bit more, but softened once he believed he had hurt her when he walked into her. He looked around them nervously, aware that they weren't taking up too much space on the side walk during their encounter.

"If you'll excuse me," Hermione said, nodding and continuing her path along the sidewalk. The stranger stayed behind, taking the hint and entered the little coffee shop that she had vacated.

The simplest task of just walking through her own door took all the energy she could muster. As she entered the foyer, the constant ticking from the old clock was a dull reminder that she was now the only occupant of the house.

No more late night dancing in the sitting room, no more wine and strawberries while perched on the counter tops, no more lemonade on the back deck overlooking the verandah while a handsome shirtless wizard tinkered about on his motorbike. Things were changing, not evolving, and it was a frightening transition that Hermione was not prepared for. She wanted to go out and join her friends, but too many times there were reminders of Sirius no longer being there. Just seeing Harry and the sad look in his eyes, wondering if he'd had any correspondence with him and if he was keeping it a secret. Seeing Ron and the way he brooded about was his silent way of saying, "I told you so".

Remus, however, was the most considerate of the crew, constantly asking her about work or about plans she had for the house. His conversations hardly ever came around to Sirius, treading carefully on what he said. A few times, he had come across Hermione on the brink of tears, whereas there he approached her like a timid animal, sitting with her and scooping her up in his arms and allowing her to vent or just cry.

Her free days from work were spent napping all day in her curtain-drawn cave of a bedroom that currently had neglected laundry piling up in a corner. She figured that this fresh into the break, any time spent alone and awake was better spent asleep and ignored. It was evident and a proven fact that time healed all wounds, it was just a matter of getting to that point quicker to make the pain subside a little.

One overcast Saturday afternoon, Hermione was leaving Grimmauld Place after having lunch with Remus. His company was always comforting and welcomed and after feeling a little under the weather lately, she needed to be around friends.

She was a few blocks away from the hidden number twelve and just turning the corner to head to the muggle train station to take the tube back to her own neighborhood. Across the narrow street, she noticed a man walking in the opposite direction and sliding his hands into his pockets, keeping his head low as if he didn't wish to stand out. His wavy black hair covered his face, but as he glanced up to verify his direction, she recognized him as the man from Diagon Alley.

He glanced up again to watch where he was walking, before glancing across the street to see the other person near him. The two shared a gaze and then a polite wave, acknowledging the other. It was strange that Hermione would see the same stranger twice in one week, it was almost suspicious, but that was just her acute sense of wonderment that everyone was a Death Eater. Trying to be a better person and leaving that part of her in the past, she stopped and looked both ways for traffic, before crossing the street to greet him and get on the same side as the train station.

"Hello again," he said, his face was warm and friendly this time. He wore a dark blue fitted sweater, jeans and Chuck Taylor shoes.

"Ah, hi," she said as she furrowed her brow. She raised an eyebrow in query, "Do you live around here?"

"I had some friends that lived along this street years ago. You could say I was just out for a nostalgic walk. You?"

"Friends live around the corner. I did too for a little while," she said, tilting her head. "Well, I'll let you be on your way. Nice seeing you." She nodded and pushed passed him, not wanting to dally any longer. She took a few steps away when she heard him calling out to her.

"My name's Aiden," he said, trying to hold her a few more extra minutes.

She spun around, intrigued by the sound of his voice. Its pitch was comforting, familiar even. She replied, "Hermione."

Neither one stepped closer to shake hands, but instead continued on their way. Aiden waved as he took a few steps backwards, smiling as he watched her turning around and carry on towards the tube station.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

A week went by and Hermione was forced to return to work. She had used all her sick days and at least two of her personal days to stay home and re-cooperate. Of course, the amount of money that was left in her bank account would have sustained her for quite sometime that she didn't have to work, but insisted on setting that money aside and only using it should she ever need to. His assistance was not something she cared to take, if it wasn't attached with him.

_I miss you, Sirius._

She found herself working longer hours. Not by force, but by choice, for each night that followed was another lonely return to the big house that she and Sirius rebuilt together. The color of the walls in the sitting room was his choice and the arrangement of glasses in the cupboards was of his order. Her pretty "catalogue ready" dining room and the library of her dreams meant nothing if she had no one to share it with. Still, she promised herself to carry on with the little unfinished projects that she had planned, desiring a sense of closure, at least with the house.

One late afternoon, near the average witch's quitting time, an owl soared into her office and perched herself on a stack of books. She hooted loudly and stuck out her thin leg while ruffling wings eager for a treat. Hermione obliged the bird and unrolled the parchment that was tied to her outstretched leg.

_Hermione,_

_Going to the Leaky and we're hoping you join us. We're beginning to forget what you look like!_

_~Harry_

Hermione shook her head and rolled the note back up. It had been quite a bit since she'd seen her friends and lately their schedules had not been able to connect. She scribbled a quick reply on a small piece of paper and sent the owl to return to its writer. It would do her good to go out.

The Leaky Cauldron seemed to have a lot of foot traffic in its direction along the wet sidewalk outside. Mostly it was a random muggle walking past, looking twice to see if he had just seen someone go into the abandoned building with several signs saying "Condemned" on the outside. Hermione was another that kept her head down and didn't meet anyone's eyes as she walked. She came to the door, took a quick look around and then pushed inside where the volume of patrons multiplied.

It was dark and smoky with a few lit candles on smaller tables, as mismatched lanterns sat upon the rest of the larger tables scattered around the pub. The bar itself had several leaners talking to Tom and she slipped in unnoticed, scanning the room for familiar faces. It appeared that she was to be the first one to arrive, so regrettably, she found an empty stool and ordered herself a whisky on the rocks. It's what _he _would have ordered.

As Hermione unwrapped her scarf, leaving it open to let her neck breathe, she paid no attention to the dark eyes watching her from across the pub. He was hidden, again, by the shadows and waited until she was settled in on her stool before approaching her. He counted his moments carefully, making sure not to unsettle her. She appeared relaxed and patient, the perfect time for him to slowly move in and make her notice him first.

Aiden flipped his wavy dark bangs out of his face and finished the last few drops of the butter beer left behind from the residue in his mug. He left his seat and sauntered to the open gap at the bar, hoping she'd look in his direction first. He looked away, pretending to not be scouting out the room and leaned forward on his elbows against the counter, nodding to Tom as he came over to greet him.

Hermione glanced over her shoulder when she heard the bells of the front door jingle, announcing a new arrival. A witch and wizard wearing blue robes came inside, greeted another couple across the room and immediately vacated the doorway to sit with them. Her eyes roamed around the room again, taking in the dusty decor and making a mental note to dust her own candlesticks on her mantle. She glanced to the wizard seated next to her and saw that he was having a severe battle with his sobriety, opening and closing his eyes to focus on the beer before him. Next to him was an obviously desperate witch with low cut robes and a long cigarette holder between her fingers as she blew smoke rings into the air. Then lastly she saw the wizard that was smiling and laughing with Tom the bartender and recognized him as Aiden; her stranger from down the road. He was looking quite put together in a long sleeved poet shirt and fine waistcoat in an off color.

Quickly looking away, not wanting him to catch her glancing in his direction, she hesitated to say something. However, she felt that speaking to someone you've already met, albeit just met, versus the wizard that was presently leering over at her with his good eye was probably the best protection she was going to get until her friends arrived.

Once she saw he was about to leave the bar with a new frothing butter beer, she called his name over the two people between them. He stopped as he heard his name and looked around for a familiar person who called it. A swift glance to his right and he offered a sincere smile and walked over to her.

"This is getting rather odd, wouldn't you say?" she inquired, raising an eyebrow.

He played it off that he had not been watching her from the second she stepped into the pub, "What? That you're stalking me? Hermione, right?"

"Yes, its Hermione, but I'm far from stalking you. You were in _my _neighborhood, remember?"

He nodded, sipping from his butter beer, but cautious not to leave a foamy mustache over his upper lip. "So, I was. And what brings a lonely girl like you, to a rowdy pub like this?" There was a hint of charm in his voice, like he was attempting his best fake pick up line.

Hearing the slight sarcasm, she smirked, "I am not lonely. I'm meeting friends here and they should be here any minute."

"Ah, that's what all the single witches say," he teased and flashed a wicked smile. He flicked his long black locks out of his eyes and for a minute, Hermione's heart fluttered at the gesture.

Like having the air knocked out of our lungs, Hermione immediately found that breathing had become a challenge. Her heart beat madly, wishing to everything that she hadn't tried to see something that wasn't there. Her throat began to dry up and even with drinking the entire contents of her mug, her thirst still wouldn't have been quenched.

_It's just the black hair!_

The small little voice within was desperately trying to convince her that Sirius was still with her in some capacity, but he wasn't...he was gone. He had left her. He had walked out of their life together, leaving her a broken awful mess with her heart smashed into pieces. She still clung to anything that reminded her of him, like Aiden: the black hair, the shape of his eyes, his physique, his smile... it was all trying too hard to be something that wasn't. He was not her Sirius, he was not her love. Sirius was not home waiting for her arrival, so they could go about painting a room another color, undecided by the last three shades.

His absence left an open cavity in her chest that prevented her to move on at the present time. Her skin felt cold and bare, like her favorite blanket that covered her through life had been taken away and hidden. She felt exposed and unsafe. Her knight on iron horseback was no longer standing by her side, reminding her with a soft caress of his finger along the back of her neck that he was pleased she was nearby and that she had returned to him, after all these years.

Her stomach started to turn, her chest felt heavy and the pub never felt so small and confined before in her life. She needed out, she needed to leave. "Excuse me, Aiden. I've got to go," she said, quickly hopping down from her bar stool. Her head was fuzzy; she didn't know how to continue with the conversation as a normal woman. "I'm sorry."

Her name was heard as she picked up her handbag and tied her scarf back around her neck. Dashing out like she'd heard her house was on fire, she practically threw herself up against the pub's heavy door. Once on the sidewalk, she lost all that had been pulled together to compose herself in public, but like a dam sprung a leak, tears flowed freely down her cheeks. Grabbing the ends of her scarf, she dabbed her cheeks try, not wanting to feel the chill against her skin as she walked against the wind, anxious to find a safe place to Apparate home.

Unseen and walking towards her, Harry was leading Ginny and Ron towards the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron. Once he saw his friend quickly walking in their direction, he called out, "Hermione! You really came-"

"I'm sorry, I'm not ready for this, yet," she murmured as she walked passed them without a second glance over her shoulder. Ron heard the familiar sounds of her sobs.

Harry spun around crestfallen, "Hermione, come on!" His voice was sincere, but the shake of his friend's wild brown mane was clear indication of her refusal.

Understanding the signs of a woman not ready to move on, Ginny hugged her fiancé's arm and pulled her brother along with her, "Leave her be, boys. It's obviously that it's still too painful for her to come out. It's still too fresh."

The two men stood still next to the red head, silently taking the command like well behaved dogs. As they watched Hermione bow her head, hunch her shoulders to keep her sweater closed and walk briskly up the sidewalk, they wished there was something they could do to comfort her, but respected her need to be alone.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The journey home took so much longer when you were trying your hardest to hide tears and avoid looking anything that would immediately tear you apart into a fit of sobs. Hermione charged at her own front door like a battering ram as she fumbled with the lock and her key. Once through, she slammed the door behind her, blocking out the world and allowing herself the inevitable release of tears, wails and cries. Her keys fell to the floor with a loud clank against the hardwood floors and her body fell against the front door beaten and exhausted. She slid to the floor and pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs and resting her head.

Sobbing to free herself from emotional chains, an empty hole in her stomach began to surface, feeling more incomplete than she had in weeks. Just when she believed the healing process was beginning, she would fall a few steps behind and see something reminding her of him. She hadn't the strength to dismiss him all together and throw away his clothes, his belongings or his favorite books, for she still believed that having those nearby, kept him somehow connected to her.

A wave of nausea began to surface and she quickly got to her feet just in time to make it to the toilet. She felt weak and angry, she felt like the bottom had finally fallen out and just when she was trying to hold a normal conversation with another wizard out of her circle of friends, she panicked and ran for it. It meant nothing, she thought, for the new acquaintance was merely making small chit chat. Still, the way he grinned resembled her Sirius.

_Her_ _Sirius_. _Where ever he may be._

_0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0_

Another week went by and Hermione was drowning herself in her work. It was very easy to do that. There were constant check-ins with several that were pulled from the Veil and there was also a list of those that just fell off the radar. It was like they wanted no assistance, no help from the Ministry and no medical attention for some of the affects of returning to a different time. Those that were gone longer than five years needed serious attention to the readjustment program. She even had to add Sirius to the list of those that had gone "AWOL". It pained her to even scribble his name and render it so unattached. Isa, her colleague, watched her carefully, looking in on her and making sure she stopped to eat once in awhile, but more than anything, she watched the spark in Hermione starting to fade.

On a forced day off, a Thursday, because Hermione had worked a full fourteen days straight, there were big plans to sleep in late. When she got bored with sleeping, there was a strong possibility that she would pull out an old book that she favored and get lost into a fairy tale land. Of course, none of these plans came to fruition as by the hour of nine; a fiery red head came bursting in with a mission.

Ginny had used the unlocking charm to Hermione's house, just in the event of a dire emergency. By the way the lithe ginger sounded like a herd of elephants stomping up the staircase, it was evident that she deemed this a state of emergency. Hermione could hear her name being chanted like a ritual, surely to alert her that she wasn't in any sort of actual danger, other than a Weasley woman. The door was opened, the curtains were drawn and light flooded the room like the headlights to an old Chevy.

"I don't care what you say, Hermione Granger, you're getting your arse up," Ginny insisted while pulling off the comforter from her cocooned friend. Her outline was easily made out by the layers of blankets hugging her form. "I'm tired of you sleeping in, I'm tired of you getting all depressed over a wizard and I'm only slightly insulted that you weren't even half heartbroken over my own brother. But, that's neither here nor there."

Hermione reached for the closest pillow to hide her face from the intruding sun and whined, "Ginny, this really isn't necessary." Her mumbles were nearly muffled from the pillow she buried her face into.

Ginny took her wand out of her back pocket and aimed it towards the bathroom and she started to draw a bath. "It's all necessary, Hermione. Now, you have your choice: you can get up and take a bath on your own, or I can force you into it, complete with magical sponges that would probably exfoliate your skin off. Your choice." Hermione mumbled an off color remark and before she could burrow herself further into the bed, now without sheets, she was lifted off of it and tossed onto the floor with a painful thud like a sack of potatoes. Ginny snickered, amused by her tactics, and said, "That was your first warning."

Hermione rolled over on her back, feeling utterly defeated and unwilling to battle her friend, so as she looked up at the ceiling, the ceiling she used to watch the shadows dance on while Sirius was fast asleep dreaming, she asked, "What is it you intend on doing with me?"

"Well, aside from making sure you don't spend the next three days off brooding, sleeping and feeling sorry for yourself, I'm going to take you to the alchemist and see if he can do anything to help lift your spirits," she said, matter of factly.

Hermione lifted herself on her elbows and eyed her friend, "You're taking me to get drugs?"

"No, I'm taking you to get herbs, or something that would help soothe you. You're sleeping way too much, you're more emotional than a pack of teenagers and I just think you should see the Healer and go from there," Ginny explained, crossing her arms in front of her, looking so much like Mrs. Weasley. "You do not want to deal with this and quite frankly, you would do better for yourself if you weren't so wound up with the idea of Sirius, right now. In time, you'll heal, but until then...you need a little pick me up." Hermione rolled her eyes and with a few more pokes and prods, she was up on her own and moved sluggishly to the bathroom to bathe herself without the help of aggressive sponges.

After a lunch at a muggle chip shop, the pair went to Diagon Alley where Hermione could inquire on something that would assist her mood. Much like searching for a Love spell, Hermione was in search of something that would do the opposite. Something that would help heal the break-up faster, something that would take Sirius out of her mind and something that would ease the pain to a more tolerable level.

They entered the little shop at the end of the road, passed all the specialty shops that were so well visited, to the alchemist that was both a healer and a provider of herbs and oils. The shop was small, quaint, and not mainstream wizard commercial like so many other Apothecary shops in Diagon Alley. This was owned by the same family, even the same old woman, for nearly two hundred years. She had passed on the business to her own children, but she still bothered with most of the blending on her own with little shop help.

As they entered the small shop, it was poorly lit, mostly due to the placement between the taller buildings and had an eerie green mist that hung in the air. Racks of oils divided into ailments were aligned against the wall, ranging from terminally ill diseases to the average headache. Beyond that were several odd plant leaves that varied in the same fashion, displayed on racks that indicated their potency by ribbon binding.

"Ah, Miss Weasley, it's good to see you," the old woman with bi-focals said from behind a counter that looked more like Professor Snape's working table. It had a small cauldron brewing something that bubbled and gave off a purple smoke, while next to it there was a root that in the process of being cut up into smaller bits. "How goes the wedding planning?"

"It's coming along, Madam Rochone. Thank you!" Ginny said eagerly, not intimidated by the woman who otherwise would scare small children by the looks of her dwelling, but it was evident she was as harmless as an old fashioned granny with a knack for chemistry.

"And your friend is not well, I see," Madam Rochone said, flourishing a finger in timid Hermione's direction. Her lips pouted and her brow furrowed in worry as she looked Hermione over.

"No, she's not. She's a bit heartbroken and needs something to help her get through-"

"-some of the painful parts," Madam Rochone finished for Ginny. Her eyes were following every move Hermione made, studying every lip bite and memorized every eyelash flutter. She was reading Hermione. "I see. She's Sirius Black's love, is she not?" Hermione's eyes got bigger, but then her face fell, absolutely crushed that she carried a label and such a painful one at that. "Yes, I read about her. He's left, has he?"

Hermione sighed, closing her eyes to seal the pain and just nodding her answer.

"Would you mind waiting outside, Miss Weasley? I'd like to speak to your young friend privately, if that is alright?" Madam Rochone said, her eyes never leaving the brunette.

"Yes, sure. Hermione, I'll go get us a couple of hot teas," Ginny said and reached over to squeeze her friend's hand, before going out the door. The little chime of the bell hanging over the doorway indicated her departure.

Hermione slowly lifted her eyes to the old woman, carrying a nervous burden that she wasn't sure was going to allow her to communicate without the presence of her friend close by. But, as she met the stare of the senior alchemist, she felt a calming sensation fill her body, like a soothing warm blanket was meeting her nerves and she felt the tension in her muscles slowly loosen. The old woman came around the counter/work table to better see Hermione, along with placing her hands gently over her upper arms in a reassuring way.

"Your heart feels heavy child? Like the weight of the world is on your shoulders, but it is really your feelings of being let down and abandoned taking over." The woman looked down at Hermione in a mothering way, but clerical at the same time. "The man loves you deeply, with ever fiber of his being...I know, because he told me." Hermione's eyes shot up immediately, searching the woman's face for a clue, an inkling of his whereabouts, desperately hoping that she would give the answer to his departure. "He came here looking for the same release you seek, something to heal a heart broken, but I see now it was his doing that did the breaking."

"Is he here? Is he close? Is he coming back to me?" Hermione blurted out anxiously, pleading with this woman to give her what she wanted to know.

"No," she said simply and dropped her arms from her shoulders and walked around her work table. Hermione, once again, immediately fell broken and exhausted. "But, I sense that he did not leave you entirely. A piece of him remains with you."

Hermione nodded, humoring the woman and everything else everyone had said to her, "Yes, yes, in my heart. Those that love us, never truly leave us. Yes, I've heard all of this before."

The old woman perched herself on the stool that was behind her table and watched Hermione with a keen eye and slight smirk, believing the girl to be a "know-it-all" sort. Still, she did not humor the girl the way she was humoring her and instead, reached her hand to Hermione's face. Hermione glanced up, tilting her head back away from the hand, as if it would bite.

"Allow me to cut a lock of your hair," Madam Rochone said and lifted a pair of scissors with her other hand.

Hermione held her hair back with one hand, "Why would you want that?"

"An ingredient to help sooth your mind child, please," she gestures long slender fingers again and with little convincing, Hermione tilted her head and allowed the woman to take a small lock from the bottom. As she worked, her eyes met Hermione's as each additional ingredient to the cauldron changed the color of smoke. "Your love is genuine and old. I can see that the two of you go back even further than what you tell your family," the woman said, dipping a small spoon into the caldron and dishing out a portion of it into a vial. Hairs were added and it changed color and consistency before their eyes. The woman slowly smiled and looked at Hermione with sincerity and hope, "It appears that he does remain with you, Miss Granger."

Ginny waited outside, pacing from one foot to the other, holding two cups of steaming hot tea. One for her was flavored a special brew, whereas Hermione was much more boring and bland when it came to her tea. Hermione came out of the little old shop and met her friend with and quietly took her tea with the hand that wasn't holding a small paper bag with the enchanted logo on the side.

"So, did she give you some of the good stuff to calm your nerves? I know she is kind of spooky, but she's actually really very good," Ginny said, walking along her friend that seemed to be sipping her tea very carefully. Hermione remained transfixed on walking steady and balancing her tea as if her life depended on it, with absolutely no sudden movements.

"Ah, yes," Hermione said quickly, turning her head as if she had just heard fingers snap her awake. She gave a light chuckle, "Said that it's very normal and gave me something to calm my nerves and help with dealing with the break-up. But yes, she is good."

"Well, that's good to hear. Maybe now you can start getting back to the old Hermione. I know my brother will be glad to have you back, he really misses you. He's finally stopped talking about how he wants to skin Sirius, but feeling guilty about it, because he's still Harry's godfather."

Hermione nodded lightly, watching each crack in the sidewalk, each line end to the street and every stone that was left lying alone. The sounds around her started to drown out and she could no longer hear the clicks of their heels on the cobblestone sidewalk. Ginny bid her good-bye as they parted at a crosswalk and with a friendly hug, spun around and left Hermione alone to her thoughts.

She continued on, clutching the bag tightly between her fingers. Her mind was scattered, yet focused. Her choice was made, but conflicted. Her heart broke, but she was determined. She missed Sirius terribly, there was no denying that.

As she neared her destination, the fence to her house began its long intimidating journey. Branches from the overgrown trees hung low over the iron spires and as she approached the entrance, the gate opened on its own, sensing the energy of the owner. She took out her keys and unlocked the front door of her house where her footsteps sounded hollow and lonely. With lead feet, she trudged down the hallway and into the kitchen, her small bag in hand.

Hermione stopped at the counter and laid her hands on the cold tile surface and spread her fingers to get a better grip. She remembered sitting on top of it; her partner between her legs and beginning to love her like a woman. She recalled the gestures of passion and love that followed after and she remembered the first time that she and Sirius had said 'I love you' while standing in that kitchen as a newborn couple with their history behind them. It was in that very same kitchen that she felt a twinge in her stomach; that aching pain that emptied at the very thought of him. She began to feel that unsettling warmth that welled up in her eyes that followed through with a quiet stream of silent tears for the man she missed so dearly.

Subconsciously, her arms wrapped around her for protection. Her sensitivity was heightened as the touch of the fabric under fingers felt soft and comforting over her abdomen. She doubled over in mental pain as her palms went flat over her stomach. She knelt to the floor, her back leaning against the kitchen cabinets, until she was sitting balled up like a child with her knees pulled to her chest and her head down. Quiet sobs echoed through the kitchen, loneliness her only friend, and as she replayed the words in her head spoken by the Healer, there was no denying it.

Hermione was pregnant.


	12. Adjusting to Change

_A note from Serade Black__: As always, thank you for the reviews. I absolutely love hearing about when you read my stories (on a commute, at home for the holidays, at the in-laws...it makes me feel like the storytelling is so much more validated). Some of you are speculating and though I will not say right or wrong about anything, I will say this: I am not a fan of O.C. that are an essential part of a story. Throw them in once in a while, yes...but to take over focus - not my thing. That is all. Stayed tuned! ;) On another note, I need to apologize for my horrendous updating (or there lack of) habits. I recently have dabbled into another Fandom, but will NEVER forget my love for Sirius & Hermione. Bear with me...- SB_

Ch. 12

The solitude in number twenty-four was just as dark and unforgiving as Azkaban prison. There were reminders on every wall, in each closet, with every turn of a doorknob and every morning when waking up alone. The big house that offered comfort, safety, and protection had long been shifted into a new dynamic.

Hermione chose to remain alone for the next few days, allowing the new development to soak into every orifice of her mind. She replayed the news over and over in her head, as if something in there might have been missed or that she would wake up and it would have been just a dream. Of course, if that were a dream, then perhaps Sirius's departure would have also been just a nightmare.

Wishful thinking on the latter, the reality of Hermione still becoming a mother was settling within her bones. As she laid on her left side in her big king sized bed, her arm absent-mindedly reached for the other pillow, willing it to still be warm from its previous occupant. Her roaming hand ran over the sheets where he would sleep; her mind imagined him close as she closed her eyes to the darkness. But, as her hands felt the air and the coldness of the sheets, it was evident that she did not have as powerful an imagination as she had hoped. She only harbored strong vivid memories to cling to with every ounce of strength of her being.

Feeling like a child once again, her mind played out several different scenarios on how she was going to break the news to her parents. They knew their only daughter to be a strong, independent, intelligent witch who had the drive to thrive on her career path, but she was sure they didn't plan on her becoming an unwed single mother. They rather liked Sirius. Her father thought he was ideal for her, because he was an intelligent man that didn't spend all his time in the library and brought out a new side of his daughter, while still challenging her intellectually. Her mother, who always had an opinion, couldn't find much against Sirius other than his age, but she quickly warmed up to it and accepted the fact that her heart wanted what the heart wanted.

Her friends, the magical ones, would be a different plan of action all together. They all had separate relationships with Sirius and it was going to affect them all in many different ways. She couldn't defend his character anymore than what he had already set as an example in this situation, but considering the fact that Sirius was not currently aware of her condition, he couldn't be judged too irrationally.

Life had to shift, it was changing. Hermione had a new adventure on the horizon...motherhood.

Her sleep patterns were erratic and the nausea was kept a little more at bay with the special herbs she had purchased from the Healer. However, she still tossed and turned in the big bed all by herself, waking to small sobs and cries that were the aftershocks of a broken heart. One night she had awoken to the darkness, her sobs subsiding and her hands went to her belly. She imagined herself big and swollen; her skin stretching and conforming naturally to allow a new little life to begin inside of her. Some moments she couldn't help but feel like a lonely scared little girl, when other times she felt like a strong independent woman about to embark upon a momentous event backed with a wonderful support system.

She battled her own conscious, believing it to be quite unfair not to share it with Sirius. Sadly, his mind had been made up and she forced herself to accept the answer that this was not what he wanted and would now be missing out. For Hermione to reach out to him in order to inform him of this new development would not help the situation, only hurt it, for if he were to come back for her, for the baby, then Sirius had to do it on his own. With that in mind, she would force her friends to promise never to tell him and she would do everything possible to hide the pregnancy as long as she could. Bulky clothing, beware.

On one particularly brave day, Hermione mustered enough strength and will to prepare herself for a trip to Diagon Alley. The day itself was overcast and a bit drizzly, similar to her overall attitude and inside emotional state. The trees along the sidewalk leading towards the Tube were dancing haphazardly in the wind; its branches pressing their brittle limits. Leaves fell into the air like nature's confetti, littering the ground with evidence of the circle of life preparing to die, only to be reborn in the Spring.

With a light scarf wrapped tightly around her throat and her favorite blue jeans she thought fondly of having to discard in a few months time, she stepped onto the train like the rest of the mundane, trying to prepare herself for the reality of letting the world in. The car swayed back and forth as it rode effortless along the tracks, stopping and going, letting the muggles on and off.

Her eyes fixated on a little girl, no more than two, sitting close to her mother on the bench. They were looking at a book together; the little girl's arm was wrapped through her parent's. Hermione imagined that would be her: alone and with a small child. No one to help, doing this all by herself. The father out of the picture, hopefully pining for the family he nearly had, but knew nothing about.

Her body knew the route to the Leaky Cauldron well. She allowed her feet to lead her in the right direction, looking down at them and mentally counting the sidewalk cracks, without really keeping count on where she'd last left off. The wind blew her hair around her head and she tucked her chin in lower, bracing herself against the chill and her arms hugged her body tighter, as if protecting herself from any ill.

The black metal sign of the Leaky Cauldron came into view of the same witch hovering over a cauldron. Muggles couldn't see the sign, in fact many muggles just avoided that same abandoned-looking street in every effort to not be mugged, or in our case, hexed. The door was heavy as she pulled it open and without looking about the pub in the slim chance she would see the dark brunette she had met as, Aiden, she kept her eyes low and private. In her peripheral, memories of Sirius's ill fated "wanted" posters could still be seen screaming in silence against the walls they decorated. She slipped through the back door and passed beyond the brick wall.

Diagon Alley looked bright and inviting on such a day, even with the overcast skies above, but she was not jaded by their invitation. As she dodged a low flying owl that swooped in to perch outside Elop's Owlery, her eyes finally focused on the sign of Flourish and Blotts with immediate need.

The little bell hanging over the door alerted Remus, the bookseller standing behind the counter, of her arrival. She was met with a warm smile and friendly eyes that allowed Hermione to have that moment of calm, before the storm. It took a lot of courage to find her way out to the bookstore, but she had concluded that he needed to be the very first one to know. Though she was not seeking direction, it was confidence that she needed, as well as the assurance that things would eventually be all right.

"Hermione, I am so pleased to see you," Remus greeted as he set down a stack of books he appeared to be cataloguing, indicated by his floating clipboard and quill. He left a kiss on her cheek and embraced her into a hug, wrapping both arms tightly around her as if to offer a personal invisible blanket. "It's good to see you out of the house."

"Yes, I'm sorry I've been all out of sorts these days," she excused, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jacket. Her eyes looked about the store, trying to focus on something balanced to say as well as to see if there were many customers in the shop. "Do you have a few minutes to step away for a quick bit?"

"Everything all right, Hermione?" Remus asked, giving his head a curious tilt. She nodded and then gestured back outside. His eyes never left her face, but his brow managed a slight furrow as he announced into the air, "Brian, I'm taking a quick break." He followed her out the door, allowing her to silently lead him away from the bookstore and away from many distractions. She brought them to a bench along the sidewalk, where passers-by kept on their way, stopping in on shop after shop.

He joined her on the bench and folded his hands in his lap, waiting for her to start. Hermione was thoughtful, mindful of her words and almost not quite sure how to start. She never looked back at him, but his presence was already reassuring to know that when she spoke, he would be there to listen. He would be her one way street, her confidante and she knew that he wouldn't mention anything to anyone, unless she asked.

She focused on a young boy across the street. He appeared to be about eleven and she could only imagine that he had just received his first letter to Hogwarts. He was tall, skinny and had dirty blond shaggy hair that fell over shoulders. His eyes were wide with discovery as it appeared his mother was presenting him with his very first owl. The boy put his arm out, waiting for the bird to transfer from his mother's arm onto his. The mother looked pleased, excited for her son and without a moment's hesitation, she promptly left a kiss on her boy's head.

A mother's love.

"I miss him, Remus," she finally said, after staring into the voided space the boy and his mother had vacated.

With a heavy sigh, Remus nodded and followed her gaze to the empty space in front of them, feigning interest trying to look casual. "I know," he said low, "I do, too."

"Have you heard from him?" she asked in a dull monotone. Like her voice had no emotion, she had put on a heavy blanket of melancholy. "Do you know where he is?"

"He's in Ireland," he replied, understanding the need to know at least a hint of him.

The idea of knowing where he was, happened to be just as painful as not knowing. She felt a burn in her chest, an empty feeling that could not be quenched. Though her heart broke, she couldn't help but ponder the thought of him so close...yet, truly so far. Holding back tears, she shut her eyes tightly and balled her fists.

Concerned, Remus laid a hand on her arm, trying to offer a little more support, "Hermione, is everything all right?"

Without looking up, Hermione found a morsel of inner strength in order to compose herself just enough without allowing a flood of emotions take over. She licked her lips and nodded, "I've got some news. You mustn't tell him." Remus remained silent and focused on his friend. "Remus, I'm pregnant."

An expression of shock rippled through him that he forced himself to tear his eyes off of her and attempt to focus on something else in order to gather his thoughts. His breath nearly silenced as it became more and more shallow; the surprise unsettled him, but then began to subside. He gripped her arm tighter and slid along the bench, closing the space between them. He moved his arm behind her shoulders in order to pull her in, where she fell against him willingly, like a sister would a big brother.

"You've only just found out, haven't you," he assumed, laying a kiss on her head lovingly.

"I've known for a few days, now. I got confirmation. You're the only one I've told," she said quietly, welcoming the warmth from her friend. "And, I've already decided that it is what I want."

"Are you sure?" he asked and she nodded against him. "And what about, Sirius?"

Hermione sat up and wiped her eyes as she shook her head, "No. If he comes home, then he'll know. Until then, if I can't have him, then I'll raise the memory of him with me. It's what _I _wanted, Remus, not what _he _wanted. That's why he left; that's why he didn't stay with me."

"No," Remus said with an assertive head shake, "he left because he loves you. The fact that he's an idiot, that's his family's fault." He believed that she needed to know more about the selfless act his friend had committed in his departure. She was always Sirius's priority, only he gave her up in order for her to have the best chance with someone she could raise a family with. Fortunately, this new development rendered that selfless act moot.

"He's so stubborn," she said a little annoyed.

"Are you all right to do this alone? Financially, I mean?"

Hermione nodded, her lip sneering at the thought of comfort, "Yes, he made sure of that before he left. Jerk."

"Yes, he did that to me, as well. I was just making sure."

She looked up at her friend and gave the shadow of what a smile might have been, "I know I can't keep this a secret for very long, but I do not intend on making a big announcement. I'd appreciate it if you'd keep this quiet. At least until I tell our friends."

"Yes, of course," he nodded, pushing a lock of hair away from her face, cherishing her innocence long taken. "Would you be inclined to move back into Grimmauld Place? Tonks and I could help with the baby and I would feel so much more at ease if you were close."

She smiled and shook her head, turning down the thoughtful offer, "No Remus, but thank you. You and Tonks need your time and I would rather stay where I am. It's what I know and it's what I love. I still have wonderful memories in that house."

"Well, you know I'm here if ever you need me," he assured, pulling away his arm and patting her hands that were now folded delicately in her lap.

"I appreciate that, Remus." Hermione gave him one more hug and as she pulled away, a small light began to simmer within her. She felt warm, lifted and lighter, now that she had finally told someone close to her. The road ahead of her was long, but by just speaking to him about it, things seemed a little less foggy to accept. Giving herself a small mental shake, she glanced back at Remus, "I don't want to keep you long. I've got to get going, anyway."

"And where is it you are going, now?" he asked with a warm comforting grin. He remained seated on the little bench as Hermione stood up and turned to face him.

With a small smirk escalating into a proper smile, she began to beam, "Shopping. I'm going to need new clothes." Yes, speaking to Remus had been very good for her and though it was fleeting, perspective was finally coming in to focus.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Later that evening, the house was nearly asleep. The sun had retired for several hours and the half moon was shining bright and strong in the night sky. Hermione's owl had perched somewhere outside her window in a tree in the back garden, watching for small unsuspecting prey. It hooted softly, igniting the life of the evening's activities.

One of the lights in the kitchen remained on, illuminating the small two-person dinette where Hermione was seated with a pad of paper and quill. She had just begun to scribble out her list of things to accomplish within the next six months, when her mind began to wander. She had visited her own muggle doctor that afternoon in order to confirm her pregnancy with a familiar OBGYN and when she heard the fast fluttering of the baby's heartbeat during the ultrasound; she nearly fell off the examining table. The pounding, the proof of life, the small little being that had started its journey into life had shifted everything into definite perspective. Seeing the small tiny bean shaped organism that was beginning to thrive within her stomach made the world pause all around her. The muffled beating sound was loud, but euphoric. Frightening, but exciting, and more than anything her life was to complete itself in a new way.

Reality had slapped her hard across the face when she was filling out paper work in the office, for she had marked "unwed" (but, not without trying) and that the father was "not involved". However, somewhere deep down, she mustered up the strength to still put down Sirius's name and birth date, partially including him, should he ever return and take responsibility for this precious creation. She had no plans of leaving him off, because someday that matter of information might deem very valuable. It was still too early to tell the sex of the child, but for the time being she just referred to the small growing baby inside of her as "peapod".

The house seemed very big and very empty to her. She and Sirius had worked hard on this house together, redoing the floors, the cabinets, updating the appliances and light fixtures, putting pictures on the walls, picking out new furniture and all of it _was _beautiful...but no longer important. Hermione's new eyes saw another's' perspective - a baby's perspective. She noted how many bumpers she was going to have to put out on the corners of the coffee table and the high counter tops, where she was going to put the small pram, a new gate needed to be bolted in front of the fireplace...

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The muggle pub was old, dusty and very outdated. It appeared dirty, just scraping by whatever code was enforced, and had a strong musty smell of stale cigarettes. In the last corner booth towards the back, a man sat with his back against the wall, one leg outstretched and the other bent up as he rested his arm over his knee flicking a metal lighter open and closed. A pack of cigarettes sat on the table in front of him next to two empty pint glasses and one that was currently being nursed. As he sucked on the end of the half burned cigarette, it illuminated his face enough to see that the man was unshaven and his hair was pulled back in a pony tale. Smoke circled all around him, giving off a mysterious dark illusion.

The bartender came over to his table to collect the empty pint glasses. He was short, but thick. He had arms the size of small tree trunks and a face that said he had seen plenty of bar brawls in his time. With a thick Irish brogue he inquired on the smoking man, "You up for one more, lad? It's last call." The unshaven man with the ponytail nodded to the bartender and held up two fingers. He rested his head against the back wall with a soft thud. "This is an Inn, as well. You be needin' a room, too?" The man sighed and nodded again, this time holding up one finger. "Alright, what name shall I put on the room, then?"

The man chuckled to himself and flicked an ash into the ashtray, "Stubby Boardman."

"Stubby it is, lad," the bartender called out as he turned away from the table to return to his bar.

"Stubby, then?" said a woman sitting at the bar who had overheard the brief, albeit short, conversation. She had taken an interest to the stranger in the shadows and hadn't spoken up until then. "Sure hope that's only a nickname and not a reputation."

For a moment he considered her, but knew that he was a much better man and much stronger man than to allow that. He would not allow himself a weakness, not when he had someone he loved dearly missing him as much as he was missing her. He felt empty and soulless as if the Dementors had finally taken the Kiss he was intended for and was left with very little feeling or consideration. His hair was dirty and his fingernails were gritty from hours spent riding his motorcycle with no gloves or hat. He hadn't showered in at least five days, only stopping for sleep when he couldn't ride any further or wanted a drink. He had resorted to a diet of beer and cigarettes, sustaining only on depression and memories. If he had reached the end of his road...it was here.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed the woman sliding off her barstool like a slithering snake approaching their unsuspecting ignorant prey. Without bothering to look up, he held up his hand and shook his head as he said, "Not interested."

He flicked her away like the ash of his cigarette; smirking at the colorful name she called him under her breath as she retreated to her barstool. He took the last long drink from his beer and picked up his cigarettes, pocketing them in the front of his jacket. He reached for his backpack that sat on the grimy dusty floor and slung it over his shoulder. With a nod to the bartender, he climbed the stairs at the back of the pub to the room he had reserved, hoping to catch a few hours of sleep instead of just tossing and turning like he had every night, since he rode away on his motorcycle.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Hermione, I have to say it's really good to see you out and about these days," Harry said, putting his arm around his best friend as they walked together down the sidewalk to Flourish and Blotts bookstore.

She smiled and wrapped her coat a little tighter, keeping the chill at bay on the windy night. The brisk air kissed her features delicately, but the sensation was stinging all the same. "Well, who would I be to turn down a night at the bookstore?"

Ginny, Harry and Hermione were nearing their destination of the old bookstore in Diagon Alley, an old haunt from their childhood years, but a staple these days. Remus had informed them of a new violinist that was hired to play and apparently, he was amazing. It didn't take long for Hermione to be coaxed into joining her friends at one of her favorite places to get lost in; the potential of hearing good classical music was something she needed in order to calm the nerves these days.

The bookstore was like an old friend. It was warm and inviting, the scent of new printed pages filled her senses and just being around them gave Hermione a strong sense of comfort and serenity. That evening, the store had been slightly transformed when you first went inside. In the back, where she remembered Gilderoy Lockhart signing autographs, there was a small music stand and several chairs positioned in front of it in a half circle. She saw Remus and immediately went to him for an inviting hug and friendly kiss on the cheek.

Before the small performance began, Hermione pulled away from the couple to explore her usual favorite places within the store, starting with the small shelves the lined the staircase as you first walked in. She slid her hand along the arm rail as her eyes scanned the titles that were unfamiliar. She knew they were new, because dust hadn't settled into the small crevices on the corners of the shelves.

She rounded the top banister and breathed in the enchanted scent of fresh parchment and bound leather. Feeling a sense of tranquility in her private heaven, she closed here eyes and ran the tips of her fingers along the bindings, casually peeking when a book called to her. Smiling to herself as she ventured down the second aisle, she remembered her moments fondly when Sirius, the younger Sirius, met her there and attempted to play it cool over a small argument that now seemed so insignificant. But, his energy still seemed to be amongst the books she stood between in the narrow aisle. His aura surrounded her, her heart warmed and she felt that for a second, just a short brief second, that he was nearby and close. Of course, that was impossible.

She heard some voices from down below, followed by the beginning notes of a solo player of the violin. The silence was deafening as the music slowly began. There was a subtle sound of the jingle of the bell that sat over the door announcing late arrivals coming to see the evening violinist, waiting to be enchanted by the beginnings of a crescendo.

The music was peaceful and serene. The notes of the first piece of music were light and flowed freely over the strings. The player was highly skilled and anyone could identify that by the light vibrato he was able to produce with nimble fingers. Hermione closed her eyes and allowed the music, the smells, and the ambiance fill her senses, enchanting her to a calming level of sanity. She laid her finger on the end of a book and pulled it out slowly, losing herself in the music and making her forget the stresses in her life. She sighed contently as she looked over the book. Smiling to herself, she had found a new title to immerse herself in.

Believing that she had left her friends alone for too long, though she doubt they were bored by the beautiful music that filled the bookstore, she ventured down the stairs towards the first level. Taking each step very carefully, her presence barely noticed by the on-lookers taking interest in the player that stood at the back of the store, Hermione turned onto the first landing and saw only the backs of Harry and Ginny through the crowd. Her eyes glanced in the direction as everyone else and as she looked beyond the crowd coming down onto the first floor, she froze.

It was Aiden.


End file.
